


Clowder of Chaos

by Hedgi



Series: Metakitties [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: (none of the kittens have fourth wall chewing powers), Crack Fic, Gen, Kittens, Metakitties, Slight Canon Divergence, Team as Family, kittens chew holes in the plot and screw with Eobard's plans, oh no it's going to have plot, therapy metakitties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-04-01 15:24:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 47,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4024996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hedgi/pseuds/Hedgi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set before the Wells is Eobard reveal (will continue through to the end of the season with AUing)</p><p>Barry walks into the cortex, and is met with Chaos. Adorable, adorable Chaos.<br/>Over two dozen metakittes worth of Chaos.<br/>Eobard's plans did not account for this.<br/>No one's plans accounted for this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Barry? Can you get to Star Labs, like, right now?” That was Caitlin, sounding on edge, and that was never a good thing. Barry nodded, forgetting that she couldn’t see him over the phone.

“On my way.”

He was at Star Labs before he’d even finished the sentence, zipping through the doors. Barry skidded into the cortex, and stopped dead. He blinked.

“Whhhhyyyyyy are there kittens everywhere?” he asked, turning. From his count, there were at least two dozen cats of various colors and sizes lounging, climbing, or darting around the room. But, with the aforementioned darting and tussling and kittens being kittens, it could have been more. It was probably more.

“Good question, Mr. Allen.” Doctor Wells sat in his wheelchair, a look that was both bemused and annoyed on his face. A marmalade kitten had wedged itself between the floor and one of the wheels of the chair, and was chewing his shoelaces. “Ask another, if you like.”

“Where did they come from?” Barry asked, feeling more confused than ever. Caitlin gave a tiny cry of surprise, which turned into a coo as a tabby kitten roughly the size of a tennis ball hooked its way up her long coat and into her arms.

“No clue,” she said, scratching the kitten’s ears. It purred, and tried to crawl inside her sleeve. “They were just. Here. Everywhere.”

“O...K…. “ Barry instinctively dodged as something dark flew at his face. The kitten landed behind him, having hurled itself from--yes, from one of the light fixtures, and shook its head, pale green eyes vivid against a grey face. It started to weave between Barry’s feet, mewing much louder than anything that small should be able to. “ Um. Has Cisco checked the security footage?”

“Nope, man, I’m down.”

Barry started, looking around. He suppressed a shocked laugh. Cisco was lying face up on the floor behind one of the desks, surrounded by kittens. Several were running around over his legs, batting at each other and the headphones that were trailing from his pocket. One had fallen asleep on his chest, its head tucked under his chin.

“You...want a hand?” Barry asked.

“Naw, she’s sleeping. I think this I’ll call this one fuzzwhump.” Cisco craned his neck. “Caitlin’s got Scrap. And the little one that just-- dude watch out.”

Barry had moved forward, forgetting about the kitten that was hell bent on tripping him. He tripped, but righted himself without so much as stepping on the end of a tail.

“That one’s Havoc.” Cisco grinned.

“I hope you don’t insist on naming all of them, Cisco,” Wells sighed, removing his glasses. “We are a research facility, and the headquarters for The Flash, we cannot have--” he stopped short as a solid black kitten with eyes so dark blue they almost looked purple managed to scramble up onto his lap and pressed itself under his hand. “We can’t keep them.”

“Just a couple?” Cisco asked. “Look, Scrap likes Caitlin!”

Caitlin had given up on keeping the kitten out of her sleeve, and on sitting down, her chair occupied by a calico and a smudgy black and white puffball. “I can’t have a cat in my apartment.”

“You could if it’s an emotional support animal.” Cisco countered as one of the kittens ran past his head, triangle tail brushing his cheek. “What else are we gonna do? Put them out on the street?”

Barry spotted two of the kittens, both golden brown tabbies, mock fighting, and scooped one up.

“They might have homes….or they might not. I could go check for missing posters?”

“Go.” Wells waved one hand, the one not giving ear scritches to the black kitten. “In the mean time, I suppose someone should make sure they’re...healthy. Fed.” He sighed. “If someone could get that one out from under my chair?” Caitlin rushed to do so, keeping her arm straight to prevent Scrap from tumbling. Three more kittens took the opportunity to climb her coat as she did so, settling on her shoulders. As Wells left the cortext, Caitlin found her phone. Hopefully, Petco delivered. If not, well, she did have Barry Allen, Fetchquest champion of the west, on speed dial.

Three hours and six bags of kitten chow later, it was determined that none of the kittens matched any of the missing posters, none were microchipped or tagged, and all could eat nearly as much as Barry, relatively speaking.  

A week after what was marked in the records as “ Holy crap why are there Kittens” day, several of the kittens had been given homes, and Barry was looking for homes for more. Joe had helped with that; several police officers he worked with had children. Eddie and Iris had taken in the golden tabby pair ( “ I never did get Iris and Eddie a… "you moved in together” present.” Barry had mused. “But, people gave Viking brides cats. It was an essential part of the household. Same principle applies.”) and Captain Singh had point blank refused until the purple eyed cat (now named “Raoul”) had put a paw on Rob’s knee. It was really all over after that.

Even Wells got used to having kittens underfoot and underwheel, and the kittens learned several lessons: no messing with The Suit, certain acts are to be done in the Litter box, and Cisco always, always, always had kitty treats.

For their part, Team Flash learned that cats really can do what they like, laws of the universe be damned.

A group (“Clowder. A group of cats is a clowder. Or a glaring, but that doesn’t really fit these guys,” Cisco corrected everyone) of kittens had managed, somehow, not only to get into the pipeline but into some of the cells.

“Therapy cats?” Caitlin offered after a minute of wondering how exactly the fluffy sand colored kitten they’ve been calling “Peanut butter”  had gotten into Peekaboo’s cell without the woman escaping, and noticing that the metahuman was sitting, teasing the kitten with her fingers and stroking it. “I mean...rehabilitation was always a goal?”

“I guess. If it works, I mean. Some prisons use therapy animals for that, cats, dogs...” Barry rubbed the back of his neck. Two identical kittens, fox-red, named “Freda” and “Georgia”, were in one of the empty cells, seeing how far up the padding they could climb. A third was fast asleep on Prism/Rainbow Raider’s lap, purring loud enough that Barry could hear it echoing. Which really should not have been possible with the speakers off.

He paused. “Do you think these cats might have...powers?”

“Like...Metakitties?” Caitlin wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think that’s even possible. I mean, people, I’m still getting used to people with...powers, but cats? Cats are just odd. I don’t think they need powers.”

“Yeah. Um. Have you guys seen Nyoom?” Cisco’s voice came from the intercom.

“Which one’s Nyoom?” Barry asked, trying to remember. The final kitten count had been Twenty-seven, and Cisco felt the need to get each kitten’s name ‘right’. Even with half the kittens gone, it was still hard to tell.“ The one without a tail, or-”

He stopped as a white-grey blur hurtled down the pipeline past him, sparking white lightning.

“Found her.”


	2. Interlude: what to do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during the fist chapter because the first chapter covers a large chunk of time. Kittens are still everywhere, the petshop is suspicious, and Cisco's starting to fall in love.

It had been a fairly quiet morning at Caring Claws Pet Supply. An older lady had dropped off her walking ball of fluff for a grooming, a regular had bought a week’s worth of bird seed, and for the last hour or so, nothing. Kenna glanced at the clock with a sigh.

The phone rang, and she answered, glad for a break in the monotony. “ Central City Caring Claws Pet Supply, this is Kenna, how can I help you?” she rattled off.

“Hi, um, Kenna. I’m Doctor Snow, Caitlin, and-- can I place an order over the phone? And do you deliver? No where else delivers, and I’m just wondering--oh!” The woman on the other end sounded frazzled and harried.

“You can order over the phone, yeah, and...I guess we can deliver, as long as it’s in city limits, if it means that much.” It had never come up before, but they did have a company van, Kenna was licensed to drive it, and she’d never gotten the chance to. Plus, she had a break coming up, and she didn’t particularly want to be around when Mrs. MacVernes came to pick up Fifi.

“Oh, thank God. Um. I need kitten supplies. Lots of them. A couple litterboxes? And some litter, that’s safe for kittens? I read somewhere that some isn’t, I think? Which is confusing. And cat food. A lot of cat food.”

“Hang on,” Kenna scribbled down some things. “Can I ask some questions?”

“Yes, fine.” In the pause, Kenna could hear shrilling mews of hungry kittens.

“How old are your kittens? And how many?”

“Between, um, we aren’t sure. They all have their eyes open, and can walk. So,  younger than a year, older than a couple weeks? It ranges. And there are um-” there was a muffled sound. “Maybe 30?”

“.....” Kenna blinked. “O...k. Um. So, kitten food. You’ll need kitten food, cat food’s hard on kittens, young ones, so. Kitten food. If you plan on keeping them a long time, you’ll need to switch over at some point, but--”

“We’ll stick to kitten food, for now.”

“Ok. Probably enough for a couple days…?”

“Yeah. If we can’t find homes for them in the next week, we’ll buy more food, I guess.”

“Toys? Beds?”

“We have some boxes we can fill with paper and sweatshirts, but… yeah, toys. Maybe one of those climbing things?” There was a muffled voice. “And scratching posts.”

Kenna looked at the list. “Ok, can I call you back? I can get a, a kitten care pack put together, it’ll only take a couple minutes.” She took down the frantic woman’s number and started down the aisle with purpose. This was much better than standing at the counter.

 

* * *

 

Kenna eyed the building suspiciously. She was fairly certain that S.T.A.R. Labs was supposed to be closed, in which case no one should be in there doing anything, particularly if it involved kittens. The place had blown up, after all, and been shut down. She should probably call the police, or something. Or maybe it had been a prank? Except that the debit card transaction had gone through.

A woman with brown hair pulled back tightly was at the gate, pulling it open. Kenna got down out of the van, still uneasy.

“I’m Doctor Snow, thank you again, so much, so much, for delivering. There aren’t a lot of us, and it’s a lot of kittens, and, you know.”

“Right,” Kenna prepared to force a smile and found she didn’t have to when a kitten poked its head out from within the doctor’s coat sleeve. It was adorable. As she started unloading boxes and realized she ought to have brought a dolley, she paused. “Um. Why do you have so many kittens. You guys aren’t open again?”

“Oh, no, just, um, I.” Caitlin Snow froze. “There are a few of us who check to make sure things are...normal. And fix them if they aren’t. This morning, there were just. Kittens.” Keeping the arm with the kitten in the sleeve straight, she waved the other. “We don’t know where they came from, or how they got in. We’ve got someone looking at missing posters now, but...”

Kenna relaxed, slightly. “I’ll help you bring this stuff in? There’s kind of a lot.”

“Yeah. Thank you again, for the discount.” Caitlin  showed the kitten from her sleeve. “Scrap, I have a perfectly good pocket, I need to carry things.”

“Scrap?”

“One of the guys named her. She’s tiny, so it fits.” Once Scrap was settled inside the large pocket, Caitlin lifted a large box, grunting at the sudden weight. “I got it,” she said. “Uh, follow me, I guess.”

The room was indeed full of kittens, and very much empty of cages and medical-sciency things, much to Kenna’s relief. She helped set up the cat tree she’d picked out, which was almost instantly colonized by a pair of russet cats that were identical, and looked to be around six months. They seemed to be the leaders. Of course, when food and water were set out in a double-dozen shallow dishes, all the kittens swarmed, abandoning their posts on the climbing tree, stacks of paper, and the shoulders and laps of the few employees.

“I should get back to work,” the shop girl said after a moment watching the writhing mass of fuzz. “But, if you need anything else, give us a call.”

Caitlin escorted her back to the van with a weary smile, but as she was leaving, Kenna could have sworn she saw a fluffy white kitten walk through one of the now empty cardboard boxes. she shook her head. It was probably just a trick of the light.

Cats were clever, and sometimes the laws of physics didn’t seem to apply to them, but that was just plain silly.

 

* * *

 

Just after Kenna left, Barry returned.

“I checked every bulletin board, telephone pole, and streetlamp in the city, and in the suburbs too. Nothing matching these kittens. Not even one! Do you know how rare that is? I mean, there are what, twenty-five of them? One should have matched at least one of the posters, but no.”

“Closer to thirty,” Cisco said. “I’ve been trying to count them, but they keep moving! I’m pretty sure there are, like, four that look like that one,” he pointed at a kitten that was black with brown markings and swaths of white, curled up asleep in the doorway leading to one of the supply closets. “She likes closets. They like closets. I think Susan or Lucy for her, and when we find the other ones,  other narnia characters.”

“We are not keeping them all,” Doctor Wells said, his wheelchair once again halted by the marmalade kitten. “If you name them, you will get attached.”

“I’d get attached anyway, look how cute they are!” Cisco retorted good-naturedly, raising his arm. The fluffy grey tabby was nestled in the crook of his arm.

Wells sighed. “The ones I’ve managed to, ah, wrangle, seem to be healthy enough. But we really cannot keep--” Cisco gave him a hopeful look-- “all of them.”

Barry looked thoughtful. “So, we find them homes?”

“With people who will take care of them, and people we can get in contact with in the event that there was something...Let us just say, I doubt they magically appeared in the cortext without reason. We may need to find them again.” Wells rubbed his glasses on his shirt, and looked down at the kitten under his wheel. “Out, you little orange scamp.”

“Scamp’s too much like Scrap. He’s kind of peach colored? Or apricot.” Cisco mused, scooping up the kitten. Said kitten scrabbled free, landing on Wells’ lap with a soft thud, and began washing her paws.

“She, Cisco,” Wells corrected absent mindedly. “Apricot. Fine. If I can’t stop you from naming Metahumans, I doubt I can stop this.”

“I know some people at the station who might like cats.” Barry said, leaning on the desk with a half eaten energy bar in hand. Cisco’s first attempts had been fairly terrible, but the latest batch had a decent crunch and chocolate chips. “Whitesmen, one of the beat cops, used to have one. And I think Sava? Oh, Iris always wanted a cat, too, when we were kids, but Joe said two human kids caused enough damage.” He paused. “I never did give her and Eddie a “congratulations, you moved in together” gift. Vikings used to give new brides kittens as gifts, cats were an essential part of the household. Same principal applies.” His mouth quirked up in a smile as one of the kittens, a younger one with calico fur, attempted to climb up his pants.

“At least it’s a quiet day,” Caitlin said with a sigh, removing Scrap from her sleeve once again.

Cisco’s computer started chiming an alert,  and a sleek greyish-white kitten leaped up to peer at it.

“You jinxed it,” Cisco muttered, shooing the kitten away from the keyboard. “ Armed Robbery on Fifth at Crescent, go.”

Barry went, careful not to step on any paws or tails as he did. This was going to take some getting used to.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is never going to end, what did I get myself into? My thanks to Blindstargazer, KennaM, Roommate, and Meriadoc for helping me plot things.


	3. Free to a Good Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the last of the interludes set during chapter one.

 

“Heeeey, Iris,” Barry said, using a tone Iris West knew all too well as the “I need a favor” voice. She rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway. His favor requests usually turned into pretty funny stories. Usually. Still, she’d play along. He always looked like a kicked puppy when she led with “ what now?”

“Barry? What are you doing here?” Iris asked. “You have a scoop or something? Or, no, let me guess, Linda?”

“Oh, uh, no. No. Um.” Barry rubbed the back of his neck. “Does Eddie’s apartment--I mean, your apartment, I mean-- do you want a cat?”

“What?” Iris asked blinking, confused.

“I may have found a bunch of kittens. And they need homes. Good ones, with people I know and trust and stuff. And I know you always wanted a cat when we were kids, so…. do you and Eddie want one?”

“Oh! Uh--I’ll have to talk to him. But I will. Are they at my dad’s, or…?”

“Um, not right now. They’re at Star Labs, actually, because there were so many, and we had to see if they were microchipped, and c’mon, Joe wouldn’t let us have one kitten…”

“True,” Iris laughed. “ Remember when we tried to smuggle in that stray?”

“Moo-ki?” Barry covered his face. “Oh, man. How long were we grounded?”

“Like two days. I think he felt bad.” An alert popped up on Iris’s computer, and she sighed. “Lunch break’s over. I’ll talk to Eddie, and we’ll call you?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, that’s fine. I’m gonna go? I will see you. soon. Just, yeah. Ok.” He left.

“Smooth, Allen, real smooth,” he muttered to himself, checking his watch. “Crap.” His shift at the station was supposed to have started three minutes before. Maybe he could bribe the head CSI, who mostly stayed in the actual lab on the main floor, with a kitten. She liked animals, didn’t she?

 

* * *

 

Head CSI Sava did, in fact, like animals. She was also very allergic to cats. Still, it hadn’t been an entire loss. She’d agreed to cover for him “this one time, Mr. Allen,” in exchange for kitten videos. An hour or so into the shift, after Barry had called Cisco and asked him to forward a few of the videos Cisco had taken on his phone, the phone in the corner of the lab rang.

“That’s strange.” Joe would have come right up, or Eddie, and if it were for him personally, or him as the Flash, it would have come on his Cellphone. “Hello?” he tried. Hopefully it wasn’t Singh, upset at some minor detail.

It wasn’t.

“Allen, my office, as soon as you have a moment.” Head CSI Sava said, her voice much softer and kinder than normal. “Please.” Ok, so that was probably a sign of the End of Days. Barry glanced around his office. Maybe it was about getting some new equipment?

 

“This one.” The woman said, jabbing at her computer screen. Barry blinked and came over, wondering if it were crime scene photos he’d taken, or--no. It was cats. One of the videos Cisco had sent, with the grey kitten “Havoc” living up to its name and one of Cisco’s laser pointers.

 

“Excuse me?” Barry asked.

“You asked if I wanted a cat. That one.”

“Um. Didn’t you say you were…?”

“Yes, Mr. Allen, but that one is a Russian Blue. Hypoallergenic.” She grinned. Barry wasn’t sure he’d ever seen his boss smile at him. “I know cat breeds. I’ve been looking for a Russian Blue breeder in the area that doesn’t want an arm and a leg. Have someone bring him by my place on my day off. I’ll want to see how we get along, of course, but if it works out, there’s a new centrifuge in it for you.”

“Uh, yeah. Um.”

“He’s got spirit.” Sava said again, pointing at the video which Barry saw was on a repeated loop. “He got a name?”

“Havoc? One of the guys who works there named him, but it might not stick--”

“Havoc. I like it. Now, shoo. Singh wants the paperwork for the Glenwood case yesterday.”

 

* * *

 

Barry finished the paperwork in record time. It was fairly simple stuff, just filling out forms. His penmanship was getting a lot better with the super speed practice, although sometimes he’d write a whole sentence to discover the pen had gone dry midword. It was either a slow day, or Sava had tasked going out to crime scenes to some of her other underlings, down in the main lab, but Barry was able to slip out earlier than expected. Eddie caught him on his way out.

“Hey, Iris just called, said something about--”

“Kittens. Yeah. Kinda found, like, two dozen. Well, they found us? Star Labs that is. Not sure exactly, but anyway. We can’t keep all of them, so…”

“We?” Eddie asked. Barry could have kicked himself.

“I--you know, I spend a lot of time there? Mostly check-ins, after the whole coma thing, but sometimes just to...hang out?” It wasn’t entirely a lie. Eddie nodded in understanding. “Anyway, so there are a lot of kittens, and I said I’d...try to help. find them homes. and Iris always liked cats and so I wasn’t sure if….And, if you want one, I mean, it’s not just, me giving Iris a cat. If you want one, it’s, or, they’re--for you both. Late Christmas gift, or apartmentwarming, or--you can have cats there, right? I know some buildings don’t...” he trailed off, awkwardly.

“Nice of you to think of us.” Eddie paused. “ I know things are...awkward. So, thanks, Allen. Barry. It means a lot. And yeah, that would be great, actually. It’d be nice.” The blond detective took a breath. “I had a cat, when I was a kid. Little kid. It’d be good to have one again.”

“Great, that’s great. Um, so, there are a bunch of them. So many of them.”

“I have a half shift tomorrow, and It’s Iris’s day off. We could come look at them then? If that works?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll call Cisco, let him know,” Barry said, mentally adding ‘and hide any trace of The Flash in the kitten rooms. Did we set aside kitten rooms? we need to.’

 

* * *

 

“Oh my gosh she’s beautiful, look at her!” Iris cooed. She was crouched on the floor, one of the golden spotted kitties--Doctor Wells had looked it up and said they were likely bengal cats, or part bengal--twining around her legs and shoving her face into Iris’s hands. Cisco gave her some kitty treats, which Iris held out to her new Best Friend. She looked up at Eddie, who was standing, shifting from side to side as the other leopard-looking kitten switched shoulders.

“We’re getting this one,” she said, with no room for argument.

“And this one,” he agreed. “They can keep each other company while we’re at work.”

 

Two kittens adopted, twenty-five to go.  Barry took Havoc over to Sava the day after, along with some of the kitten supplies they’d acquired. He did not bring the kitten back to Star Labs, leaving the grey menace curled happily around the woman’s sneakers.

Star labs was somewhat quieter after that. Somewhat. Mostly.

 

* * *

 

Barry was only a little surprised when Captain Singh asked to speak to him, he was far more surprised that it was about the kittens, and he was much further surprised that not only was the captain not upset that Barry was going around trying to find homes for a bunch of stray cats within the precinct, but he wanted one.

“For Rob, not me,” Singh had said. Barry was fairly certain that was only a half-truth, when he saw the way the Captain handled the sleek black cat with purple eyes.

Rob fell in love with the kitten as well--Cisco had been calling him either Pounce or Faithful after some  fantasy series-- and three days later they took him home, with a new collar that read “Raoul” and a bag of kitten toys.

 

“Maybe this means he likes me?” Barry asked Joe one afternoon. The Captain hadn’t yelled at Barry since adopting Raoul. Which was probably another sign of the End of the World, but Barry wasn’t going to question it.

* * *

 

Several of the kittens, it seemed, did not have issue with locked doors.

“I promise, they were all in here ten minutes ago,” Cisco said, looking at the Kitten Room, an old office that was now full of cat beds and litterboxes, food and water dishes and catnip mice, a climbing tree and scratching post, and only two kittens.

“So...what do we do? Where did they all go? How did they all go?” Caitlin asked, scooping up the tiny tabby that was sitting on her shoe and crying for attention. “No, Scrap, not the sleeve again.” Unwilling to listen, the kitten crawled back inside the labcoat’s sleeve and settled there, purring.

“I don’t know?” Cisco sounded vaguely hysterical. “I mean, they were all--where did they go? I’m going to go check the cameras, maybe someone let them out?

They found a dozen kittens sprinting down the hallways. Three more had discovered the medbay and were fast asleep on top of the cot. Doctor Wells sat in his chair in the middle of the cortex when Cisco burst in, leaving Barry and Caitlin to corral the renegade floofballs. In his lap was the marmalade kitten Apricot, purring and chewing on a pencil with her tiny, needle sharp teeth.

“I believe a group of them might have gotten down into the lower levels.” Doctor Wells said, a bit distractedly.

“Ye--eah,” Cisco said, checking the computers. “ They’re in the Pipeline. And it’s a Clowder. A group of cats is called a Clowder, or a Glaring, but that doesn’t really fit these guys.”

 

Caitlin and Barry ventured down to retrieve the kittens, listing off the descriptions as Cisco checked them off his Master List. Peanut Butter, check, Frieda and Georgia, check, Sue, check. With the others more or less contained in the kitten room, except for Scrap (still with Caitlin) Apricot (now chewing on Doctor Wells’ cardigan), and Fuzzwhump, perched on Cisco’s shoulder, that left…

 

“Yeah. Um. Have you guys seen Nyoom?” he called down into the intercom. There was a moment of hesitation. She was impossible to catch, always running around and never out of energy, so the name had seemed decent. It was that or CatFlash, which would only really fit if she was a superhero or something.

“Which one’s Nyoom? The one without a tail, or…” Barry trailed off. “Found her.” There was a crackling of static.

 

Five minutes later, Cisco was staring at his list, wondering how many more of the kittens had metakitty powers.

 

Just then, the silver tabby he’d nicknamed Khoshek levitated a  full foot and a half off the ground.

 

Cisco scribbled that down, and frowned. He hoped that the kittens already adopted wouldn’t have obvious powers. That could be a disaster.

Across the room, Peanut Butter ran through a wall and bounced off a golden bubble that formed around Moose, a reverse-tabby.

  
It _had_ to be a Tuesday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is officially a Thing? like, I plotted out seven chapters and that's only a fraction? YIKES.
> 
> sometime next chapter or the one after we'll get a full list of the kitties names, descriptions, and powers. I have the list. I know all the names and powers and who adopts who. It'll be an adventure.
> 
> I am on tumblr, hedgiwithapen, feel free to shout at me there as well as below, I love hearing from you.


	4. Chapter two

 

“Ok, so that’s definitely just Lucy,” Cisco muttered, watching the closet that the reverse-tabby had just gone into--and the closet on the far side of the room she’d just come out of. For the last few days, no one had been sure if it was another Metakitty power, or if there were multiple cats that looked just like each other. Finally, Caitlin had suggested collaring her and seeing if that worked to answer the question. While it did, and Cisco crossed out “ Susan”, “ Eddie” and “Petra” on the scraps of paper that made up his semi-official List Of Cats, it still begged the question of how on God’s Green Earth the kitten managed to teleport through closets.  
  
“At least she’s not teleporting to the roof or out of the lab?” Caitlin offered. “ And that’s a power that...well, we could probably find her a place outside of Star Labs, it wouldn’t be obvious that something was...off.”

Since discovering that most-if-not-all of the kittens had some kind of power, they’d gotten a lot more careful. Luckily, none of the cats already placed seemed to have powers, or at least, not noticeable ones. Or so everyone hoped, because explaining that would be “Literal buckets of no fun.”  
  
Cisco made a few more notes on his kitten list.

  1. Apricot:  marmalade colored. No powers??? Likes Tunafish best. Might be in love with Doctor Wells.

  2. Scrap: brown tabby. no powers?? NOT GROWING. Caitlin’s. Agoraphobic?




It was true. Scrap had latched on to Caitlin like a duckling imprinting and had refused to leave her side without crying in that pathetic kitten way. No one could resist the tennis-ball sized lump of fluff, so Caitlin had started the process of registering her as a comfort/companion animal, in order to get around the lease at her apartment. It was worth the effort.

  1. Fuzzwhump: longhaired light grey tabby ball of floof. Precious baby. MINE.




Cisco grinned. Fuzzwhump wasn’t so much his as he was hers, he was pretty sure. She was currently half asleep and snoring/purring on his lap, her belly round with maybe a few too many cat treats.

  1. Freda and

  2. Georgia: twins? reddish colored. SOMEHOW THEY GOT IN A PIPELINE CELL??? I THINK THEY READ MINDS.

  3. Nyoom: Grey and white. speedster. Barry’s. Keep away from catnip. NO. KEEP. AWAY. FROM. CATNIP.

  4. Peanut Butter. Sand colored. Can walk through walls, officially Peekaboo’s. They adopted each other, I swear.




He was pretty sure they couldn’t stop this anyway, and Shawna had seriously calmed down since getting the cat. Hopefully that meant they’d be able to let her out soon. It really wasn’t like she’d hurt anyone, after all.

8\. Ginger/Garfield. Orange tabby. Might be immune to heat? Not sure. Safe to adopt out,  I think.

9\. Schrodinger. Black and white smudgy. IN THE BOX? OUT OF THE BOX? BOTH??? (Walks through things. Like walls and PEOPLES LEGS OH MY GOSH NO CAT. Probably don’t adopt this one out.)

10\. Koshek. Silver tabby. Floats at times. Probably shouldn’t adopt out? Maybe.

11\. Eevee. Brown and white, looks like the pokemon a little. No powers? Find a home.

12\.  Sue. Calico. Prisim’s therapy cat. NOTHING makes her mad? like at all? She might be blind--note: have Caitlin see. Pretty sure her Purr is telepathic or something.

13\. Greebo. Manx, cream colored.  only three legs. No powers? Find a home?

14\. Lucy. (NOT Susan, Eddie, and Petra) reverse tabby with white. Doors seem to be liminal space? Closet Jumping? Probably safe to adopt out, though.

15\. Felix. Standard grey-brown tabby. walks through walls (WHY CAN SO MANY OF THEM? IS THAT JUST A CAT THING?) Seems shy of it? Safe to adopt out. I think.

16.Cassie. longhaired black with white tips on ears. No powers? but realllly hyper and easily excited. find her a home with high energy people.

17\. Faulkner. grey and white. Never shuts up. Probably doesn’t have powers. Likes the computers.

“Oi!” Cisco started as Faulkner leaped up to the computer and started batting at the screen. Cisco  shooed the kitten down. “Falkner, no, down. Go play with your friends, Fuzz’s sleeping and I am working. Understand? Work-king.”

“Mrrrrt. Roaw?” Falkner chirped. _(But that’s my name! On the screen!)_

 _(Sleeping.)_ Fuzzwhump purred, cracking an eye open _(Later.)_

Cisco stroked both kitties, giving them ear skritches, and got back to organizing the list from the various scraps of paper he’d been using.

18\. Spike. mottled brown. WILD. GUESS. KEEP HERE DO NOT ADOPT OUT.

19\. Murgatroyd. black and white. Very calming--not sure if Power or if cat. Keep as Therapy cat?

20\. Schmendrick. Tortoiseshell. Theory one: living battery. Theory two: can leech energy from things. Theory three: actually nope just got those two. Might be safe to adopt out.

21\. Rita. greyish? Hides a lot. For hours at a time. Probably safe? Unless she just. turns invisible or something.

22\. Moose. Reverse tabby, some white. force fields. KEEP.

23\. Santiago. Looks like a baby mountain lion, so abyssinian probably. can chew through things. like solid metal table legs. Better keep.

That only left the adopted kittens, four of them. Havoc was still with the Director of the CSI division, and presumably causing the right amount of havoc for her to keep him. Captain Singh hadn’t called in Barry to complain that Raoul was levitating or phasing through things or whatever else meta kitties could do, and Eddie and Iris seemed to be doing fine with Goldie and Bear, judging by the number of pictures Iris had added to her personal blog.  
  
Cisco hummed a little. This really wasn’t so bad. Even Doctor Wells seemed to be in a better mood than usual, with Apricot often curled up on his lap, or Murgatroyd sprawled across his feet, balancing as cats seem to have the natural ability to do. It was nice having them all around, even if they got underfoot at times. They’d gotten more kitten food, and in some of his free time, Cisco’d rigged a laser pointer light show type thing in one of the kitten rooms. Nyoom seemed to appreciate it most, but Cassie loved it too. She always seemed to know where exactly the light would go next, even when Cisco’d spent three hours ignoring phone calls from his mother (which was possibly more dangerous than, say, facing Captain Cold with a vacuum cleaner) to randomize the light completely. There shouldn’t be a pattern, and even if there was, how smart were these cats?

Maybe Cassie had the meta-kitty power of analyzing probability.

On his lap, Fuzzwhump stretched, then leaped down, looking at him expectantly.

“Lunch time?” Cisco asked.

As if they’d heard, most of the kittens converged on the food bowls.

 

* * *

 

“Barry, can I talk to you?” Eddie knocked on the door frame of the makeshift lab where Barry did most of his work.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Barry startled, mentally running through any reason Eddie would want to talk to him. “Is it about the, uh--Grier case?” he started scrambling for papers on his cluttered desk, careful not to use his super speed. “ I’ve got the tox screen running now, It should only be a--”

“No, it’s about Iris. And Goldie. And Bear.”

“Are they ok? Is something wrong?” Barry dropped the stack, suddenly worried.

“No, they’re fine, didn’t mean to scare you.” Eddie flashed a tight smile. “It’s just….Things are weird. Like, really weird.”

“O-oh?” Barry asked, hoping he sounded just interested and not panicked.

“Sometimes, we’ll be talking, and everything’s normal, and then I just--can’t talk. Or she can’t. Like the words just--won’t come.”

“That’s not...weird. That happens all the time. Forgetting what you’re saying, or losing your train of thought…”

“But it only happens when Bear’s around, like on the couch, or the rug, or the bed. And...that’s not the only thing they have in common.”

“The cats? Or the times when--”

“The times when we can’t talk. It’s when--Like, she’ll ask me what I think of her pot roast and you know Iris’s pot roast.”

Barry made a face. Iris was a very good cook, but there were some recipes that she really should probably stop trying.

“Or I’ll be asking her if she’s had a good day at work, or if she’s really ok with my mother wanting to come by for dinner,  things like that.”

“Things you answer with lies, then.” Barry blinked. “ So you’re trying to tell me that your cats...make it impossible to lie.”

“I know, it sounds crazy,” Eddie said, running a hand through his hair. “ But I think so. Goldie just--meows. Really loudly, like loudly, when anyone says anything that’s not true. I’ve tried testing it, I thought I was losing it, but every time, _every time_!”

“Wow,” Barry tried to keep his face interested and calm. “That--you’re right, that is weird. Very weird. Um.”

“I know that Star Labs has something to do with all this--Metahuman activity. I am a detective, and the way Joe keeps sneaking over there when we’ve got cases that are --difficult. So I’m just asking you--have you seen anything? Strange, or--out of the ordinary there?”

“Not...really?” Barry offered.

“Meow.” Goldie yowled from Eddie’s bag.

Barry winced.

 

* * *

 

Barry did his best to smooth that over, careful not to admit to being a metahuman himself, and as soon as he was able, beat a hasty retreat to STAR Labs, if only to warn them all that there might be trouble.

“Oh, we have trouble.” Doctor Wells said, nodding his head at the kittens clustered around them. Eevee, one of the non-powered kittens was in a glass case. A sealed glass case. And she was wispy and green around the edges.

“Doctor Snow found, ah, Schrodi in a locked room, stuck. And then this one,” Wells indicated Eevee, who seemed no worse for wear. “Was downstairs. In Nimbus’s cell.”

“How is she not dead?” Barry asked. “ And how is she…”

“She’s appropriated his powers.” Caitlin filled in. “Somehow, she can--take the powers of other Metas. Including people.”

“Which, for us, is potentially dangerous. What happens if she borrows yours, Barry? Or if we had not caught her before she accidentally gassed someone?”

Barry sucked in a breath. He’d lost his powers once, losing them again, to a cat ( and having two speedster cats running around) would be on the list of Not Good things. Particularly if the Man in Yellow returned. Though if she could steal his powers….

“We need to find a home for her as soon as possible,” Doctor Wells continued. “ And find a way to end her connection to The Mist’s powers. It would be wonderful if he never regained said powers, of course, but…”

“So put her with another kitten? Let her take that power instead?” Cisco guessed. “But what if it...hurts them?”

“Exactly. I suppose we can always keep an eye on her, and hope that it wears off, so to speak.” Doctor Wells removed his glasses and polished the lenses, careful to avoid the lower part of his dark cardigan, currently covered in orange cat fur.

“How long has she been like this?”

“A little over an hour, I’m afraid.”

Eevee mewed a little sadly and pressed her paws against the container wall.  Fuzzwhump and Faulkner scurried over, Fuzzwhump remarkably fast on her stubby legs, and patted at their friend.

* * *

  
  
Approximately 45 minutes later, an alert from the pipeline informed everyone that The Mist had regained his powers and was trying to escape through the vents again. Luckily, there were failsafes for just such an occurrence--honestly, they weren’t stupid-- and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.  Caitlin opened the door on the tiny containment unit, and Eevee scrabbled out, purring up a storm and moving to brush against first Caitlin and then Barry. Cisco scooped her up before she could.

“We really don’t need two lightning bolt kitty blurs around here. Even if it’s only temporary,” he said.

“It might be useful, if we have to fight--you know. The reverse Flash.” Barry chewed his lip thoughtfully. “Slow him down long enough to catch him.”

“Are you suggesting throwing Eevee at him the next time he pays a visit?” Caitlin raised a brow. “ Because that sounds like a _spectacularly_ bad plan.”

“She could easily get any of us killed, or any number of people if she happens to borrow your powers, Mr. Allen.” Doctor Wells shook his head. “ I think it best that we find her a home, and quickly. Someone who has no connection to The Flash or Metahumans.”

As if on cue, the intercom buzzed.

“Hi, Caitlin? It’s uh--can you see me? Never mind. It’s Kenna? From the pet store? I brought the next delivery of kitten food.”

Caitlin and Scrap went down to let Kenna in, and help with the boxes. Once the supplies, many more this time now that it was apparent some of the kittens would stay indefinitely, were safely stowed, Kenna  bent to the task of greeting the kittens. Santiago started gnawing on her trailing shoe lace, toying with it until the aiglet came clean off. Fuzzwhump sniffed her hands and ran back to Cisco, climbing his pant leg until she reached the crook of his arm. Koshek flopped onto his belly, purring.

“Aww, you beautiful babies,” she cooed. “Hi, kitty.” Eevee butted her head against the young woman’s leg, and Kenna cradled the brown and white fluffball.

“Ms, ah--” Doctor Wells started.

“Page. Kenna Page,” she supplied, not looking up.

“Ms. Page. Would you be interested in one of these kittens? In that kitten?”

“What? Um--Well, yes, I’d love too, but--Um--why?”

“Eevee seems fond of you,” the doctor continued. “ And her presence here is unsettling for some of the other occupants.”

 _(Wish Bear was here.)_ Santiago mewed around a mouth full of cardboard box.

 _(Well, he’s not wrong, or lying. So.)_  Scrap purred from her place in the special pocket sewn in Caitlin’s sleeve.

“But she’s so precious!” Kenna frowned. “ Is she sick? Is something wrong with her?”

“No, no, no,” Cisco said quickly. “ She’s just--some of the kittens are...special needs. And she’s one of the ones who really needs a home. A more peaceful home.”

“Oh. Well--yeah. Yeah. Eevee? D’you wanna come home with me?”

 _(Yes. You smell like food.)_ Eevee twined around Kenna’s legs and then leaped up to her shoulder.

“I guess that’s a yes, then,” Kenna laughed. “OK, Um, thank you. So much.”

“Thank you, Ms. Page.” Doctor Wells said. “For all your help in this, ah, matter.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad that you aren’t, like, experimenting on kittens.”

“We would never.” Cisco said, torn between appalled and affronted.

“Like I said, I’m glad.” Kenna said, scritching her new pet behind the tufted ears. “ I should get going.  Anything else you need, give me--er, the shop--a call. I can refer some people looking for kittens to you, if you like.”

“That won’t be necessary, but thank you,” Doctor Wells said firmly. “ We’ll keep that in mind. Doctor Snow, if you would show Ms. Page the way out?”

As Kenna settled the kitten in a spare cat carrier already in the van, she paused. “That Doctor Wells dude is a strange guy, huh Eves? Eh. Let’s go use my employee discount to raid the toy aisle.”

 

 


	5. Chapter three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, know how this is vaguely AU? yeah. It’s vaguely AU. Some stuff will correlate with episodes from here on out. This chapter takes place around episodes 13/14, but not all things that happen in the episode are things in this because nope, that's too much on me also I don't wanna write the awkward date stuff with Linda like yeah no. So, yeah. Just so you know. Also? Actual plot? Not all crack and kitten antics? but. plot? What is this?

Caitlin touched the folded paper in her purse, then used one finger to scratch Scrap under the chin. “ Well, it’s official, Dr. Scrap.” she said, laughing a little. “ You are a working cat now. Which means you don’t have to hide in the sock drawer when the neighbors come by for a cup of sugar.”

“Meeerp.” Scrap trilled from inside Caitlin’s sleeve. _(But socks!)_  
“Oh, you,” Caitlin shook her head.. She wasn’t sure exactly what the kitten had said, but she knew enough from the research she’d done that cats had sounds that meant things, a language. And Scrap’s powers--if she had any--had yet to be revealed. It was possible she understood--Faulkner seemed to, at times.

Things had definitely improved since she’d gotten the kitten, and she was sure the others had noticed. sleeping with the kitten purring in her ear seemed to help the uneasy dreams she still had, of the warehouse where Snart and Rory had held her, of her friends--the only family she had left--hurt by metahumans, of the night her world had shattered. Of Ronnie.

She’d taken off the ring, put it in a drawer. Wearing it, when he was alive but at the same time not, when he didn’t know her, when he’d become whatever it was he’d become, was too much.  
  
Scrap seemed to sense her sadness, and mewed shrilly, pushing her head into the palm of Caitlin’s hand. She was soft, and warm, and trembling with her purr. Caitlin smiled again, and made her way to work.

* * *

  
  
It was a fairly slow morning. There hadn’t been many Metahuman sightings since Peekaboo, if any. Even regular disasters that would require The Flash’s help-- house fires, trapped construction workers, bank robberies with hostages-- seemed to be at a record low. Then again, it wasn’t even noon. Barry was on the Cisco’d Treadmill, jogging alongside Nyoom, as part of his agility training. He’d tripped twice, but the scraped palm and bump on his head had already started to heal, and he was getting much better at dodging the kitten’s movements. For her part, Nyoom found it very fun, a small fog-colored blur sparking lighting several shades paler than Barry’s own golden. They stopped for rest, Barry scarfing down two of Cisco’s calorie bars, Nyoom emptying a bowl of special kitten chow.

She scrambled back onto the treadmill, batted at it with a paw twice, and then changed her mind and ran to the door. Then she changed her mind again, and leaped up to perch on the treadmill’s belt, planting her butt and washing her paw.

“Nyoom, whaaaat?” Barry sighed. “You want to run? You want more food? What?”

Nyoom curled up, tail over her nose, and appeared to fall asleep.

“I believe that’s the end of your in-house training for the morning, Mr. Allen,” Doctor Wells commented from the observation room, Apricot draped like a scarf or neck pillow across his shoulders.

“I think so too,” Barry sighed. “I wonder if she’ll get faster than me, eventually? Cats can run about 30 miles an hour if they need to, but most people can only run a little under...20? Or was it 22? Usain Bolt was clocked at 27, I think. So if normal people can only run 2/3rds as fast as cats…..could a super speed metakitten run faster than a speedster?”

“I think only time will tell, Barry. But for what it is worth, I do not think either of you have reached your top speed.” Doctor Wells reached up to scratch Apricot’s ears, and she sighed happily.

* * *

 

CC Jitters technically only allowed certain service animals--guide and seizure dogs, mostly, but no one asked many questions, and Caitlin had a prepared speech about “legally, I don’t have to tell anyone what service she provides” on autoplay in the back of her mind just in case. Iris saw them come in, and waved.

“Lunch break?” she asked, grinning. “ They still give me an employee discount, I’ll grab some sandwiches and coffee, kay?” she spotted Scrap peeking out from Caitlin’s purse, and Fuzzwhump slowed inside one of Cisco’s pockets, sound asleep with only one tufted ear really visible. “ And I’ll see what I can get Katya to give me for those cuties.”

In the upper loft area of the coffee shop, a few patrons watched the local news channel and chatted, and they grabbed a pair of tables.

“I really hope she hasn’t noticed about her cats’s super powers,” Barry whispered as she left sitting down. “ Because I had a hard enough time explaining to Eddie.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Caitlin said, a little too brightly. “Now, what’s this I hear about you and Linda?”

The discussion of the date ( “Dude, don’t drink water after you eat something spicy, that’s dumb. Don’t you know anything about peppers?” Cisco wanted to know) was interrupted by the arrival of Iris and Katya bearing  lunch. As the Barista/Waitress left, Iris settled onto her seat.

“Barry, I wanted to ask you about Goldie--” she started. Thankfully, Barry didn’t have to answer, as Cisco’s phone rang and he had to dig it out of the same pocket that housed the rather more awake kitten. Cupping the tabby in one hand, he answered, frowned and hung up.

“I gotta go, a--friend--I’m sorry, I’ll see you.” Settling Fuzzwhump, he left a couple crumpled dollars on the table and took his sandwich with him.

“He has other friends?” Iris asked, though not unkindly. “I never see him not glued to you guys. Ohh, is it the pet shop girl?”

“I have no idea,” Caitlin said,  watching him leave. Barry shrugged.

The news report changed, depicting a crime scene from the night before.  Iris caught the words “Burning man” and turned to the others. Caitlin was as white as a sheet, and Scrap had abandoned the slice of ham she’d been gnawing on in favor of licking the doctor’s fingers.

“I need to go.” She said in a rush, gathering her purse and kitten.

“I should, too. I’m sorry. Another time?” Barry winced, then followed.

* * *

 

The cortex was abuzz with chatter, and Scrap sat, switching her tail back and forth, or attempting too. She was still kitten-small and kitten young, and her tail was a pointed triangle.

Faulkner came over, followed by Georgia.

 _(What is it?)_ The tom cat blinked, turning to wash his much longer tail as Georgia, the self appointed Momcat, licked Scrap’s ears.

 _(Where are Fuzz and her human, the one with the long fur?)_ she purred.

 _(Gone. The box he has made noise and they went somewhere. And I think my human is upset.)_ Scrap edged away from Georgia’s tongue.

 _(Yes_ ) Faulkner agreed. _(Very. I can understand most of it, the stuff on the big box. Someone got hurt. Maybe a littermate? Or her Tom?)_

 _(She doesn’t have one. I think she did. She has a shirt that doesn’t smell like her and she cries holding it.)_ Scrap batted Georgia away as the russet kitten--the oldest of them all with her littermate Frieda at six and a half months-- put a paw on Scrap’s back and started to wash her again. ( _And I can do that!)_

_(No, you miss spots. Faulkner, see what you can find on the screens?)_

_(On it)_ he yowled once, causing heads to turn, and leaped up onto the  desk.

“No, down! Faulkner, down,” Scrap’s human said, the Soft One. She looked like she was about to cry again. Faulkner signed and leaped down, twitching his whiskers.

 _(I think we need Ginger)_ he mewed at last. _(The screen said something about Firestorms and a burning man.)_

* * *

 

It was a good thing they called in Ginger, as it turned out, because a day or so later, they had a guest who needed Kitten therapy more than the people in the boxes.  Well, it might have been longer. Really, time is fluid for a cat, the sun’s up and it’s nap time or the sun’s down and it’s play time, or everyone’s locked inside so it really doesn’t matter. They had been locked inside, though with Schrodi and Peanut Butter’s help that hadn’t mattered as much. Still.

Now there was a new person, who had been going toward the the back room, the one that had medical smells and no one but the Nyoom-human and the Soft One ever really went, because the Nyoom-human kept getting hurt and the Soft One fixed it.

 _(He smells better now)_ Ginger commented rubbing against the new person’s legs.

 _(He smells like Soft One’s Tom.)_ Scrap added.

 _(Shhhh. I’m listening. People talk is hard)_ Georgia hissed.

 _(That’s why I’m waiting for them to learn cat.)_ Apricot unwound herself from the Wheel-man and trotted over.

 _(Uh oh. This isn’t good._ ) Faulkner meowed, and was shushed by all of the people.

 _(Wait, if that’s her Tom, why’s she sad?_ ) Peanut Butter  came out of one of the desk drawers she’d commandeered. _(My girl in the box downstairs misses her Tom, she’d be happy if he was here.)_

 _(People do silly things like be sad over metal circles and stare at screens  or paper all day.)_ Scrap mewed over her shoulder, padding over to her human and crying to be picked up.

 _(They want to do tests. Tests are not good things. Ginger?)_ Faulkner chirped.

 _(He’s really hot. Maybe more than me.)_ The orange tabby allowed the New Person to rub his ears and mutter “ Good kitty” before rejoining the cluster of cats watching.

* * *

He was going to blow up. They figured that much out. Human speech took concentration to understand, but “explosion “ and “ level the city” and the way the Soft One yelled at Wheel-man to fix things made it pretty clear. Some time in all that chaos, and not the good kind of catnip fueled kitten chaos, Fuzz and her human returned, reeking of worried and nervous. Fuzz didn’t have much to say other than _(lots of lights, something about blood, and a mirror. that’s what the shiny things that look like there’s a trapped cat are, mirrors. I tried to play with it but  the people took it away.)_

Wheel-man went somewhere and Soft One almost cried and New Person left. Nyoom-human and Soft one went after them, leaving Scrap behind even as she yowled, _(dangerous take me with you!)_ Fuzz’s person scooped her up, whispering soothingly. Scrap and the other cats thought he was saying things would be ok, but  Scrap wasn’t too sure they would be. Not with tension filling the room.  
  
But it was. Nyoom-human and the soft one came back with two others, Soft One’s Tom, apparently called “ Ronnie” and an old one, a little ragged. He seemed to like Ginger, almost purring himself when Ginger sat in his lap.  
  
Scrap, satisfied that her person was crying from good things, settled herself in her person’s sleeve once more, a tiny ball of fluff and beating heart.

* * *

 

“ We could leave town.” Ronnie was saying, his voice low. Caitlin blinked,  putting down her coffee cup.

“Leave? But-- our lives are here. My job is here.” In her sleeve, Scrap twitched unhappily at the word ‘leave.’

“Yes, hunting metahumans.” he frowned. “It’s not--”

“It’s not that. I help people. I help a lot of people.”

“You could get hurt.”

“I could get hurt anywhere. Besides, I feel partly responsible for all this. I want to do all I can to figure it out. At least where the metakittens came from.”

“I’m not mad or anything, but--I’ve just missed you so much. And I’m worried. We lost a year, and I don’t want to lose any more time with you. Cait.” Ronnie took her hand. Scrap scrabbled free, and Caitlin shook her head, opening her purse for the kitten.

Scrap leaped in, blinking up at both of them with wide blue eyes.  
“We won’t,” Caitlin promised. “ But I can’t leave, not now. You’re home, and you can’t make fire-balls anymore. It’s safe.”  
  
It was not “safe.” Scrap suddenly felt the purse tip sideways and people were screaming, including Soft One and the Warm One.   
  
Caitlin grabbed up the purse and they were crawling, trying to get out as some kind of gas filled the room, and people collapsed. Ducking behind a table, Ronnie coughed.

“Cait, go, get out of here.”

“Not without you,” she answered, clutching her bag. Inside it, Scrap shrieked.

“I’m right behind you, GO.”  
She went. Ronnie took a heartbeat to toss one of the canisters leaking knockout gas away from the exit and ran, using the mist as a cover.

“Hands in the air.” Someone had been waiting outside the service exit. Ronnie heard the sound of guns being cocked and raised his hands. Even without the extra presence in his head, he could tell he was surrounded. From the shadows of the alleyway, a half dozen armed soldiers emerged, five of them holding guns pointed at him.  
One held a gun to Caitlin’s head instead.

“Let her go,” Ronnie tried to snarl it, but he was out-numbered and out-matched and they knew it.

“Ronald Raymond,” an older man in a fancier uniform walked through the knot of people, standing just out of reach. “ The Burning Man himself. Or half of him.” He smirked.

“Who are you?” Ronnie’s chest heaved, he locked eyes with Caitlin, pale in the dim lighting, here eyes wide. She had been forced to drop her purse. The man only smirked again.

“General Wade Eiling, US Army.”

“What do you want?” he’d give it to them, anything they wanted, if it would save Cait.

“F.I.R.E.S.T.O.R.M.”  Eiling said. “Now, are you going to come quietly, or--”

He was cut off as the man holding Caitlin screeched. Scrap had worked her way free of the purse, and the tennis ball sized kitten had managed to climb to the man’s leg and latch on with all four sets of claws and her teeth. He kicked out hard, keeping the gun on Caitlin and sending Scrap flying into a shadowy patch beside a dumpster.

“Leave her alone,” Caitlin shrieked. “And let us go, this is illegal, you can’t do this.”

“Shut up.” Eiling snapped, eyes still on Ronnie. If the young man had possessed his abilities, he would have barbequed the general where he stood.

It happened in a flash. One moment, the soldiers were leveling guns with laser sights at them, in the next, something large and tawny and roughly the size of a full grown grizzly bear had charged from the shadows. One of the soldiers got off a shot, but whatever the thing was, it barreled into him like a train and the shot went wide. The man holding Caitlin pointed his gun at it, and Caitlin took the opportunity to slam her foot, heel and all, back until his other arm went limp and he crumpled. she threw herself at Ronnie, shaking.  
The shadowy beast turned on Eiling, and he drew something out of a pocket too late. As it came into the light and swiped a massive paw across the general’s torso, leaving gouges that welled up with blood, Caitlin and Ronnie saw what it was. Or rather, who it was. The tail was still a bristling triangle, the dark markings like tigerstripes against a brindled brown coat and a face with tufted ears,  foot long whiskers, and large blue eyes.

“Scrap?” Caitlin managed, before Ronnie regained the ability to both breath and move.

“ Come on, we need to get out of here.” he pulled at her hand and she followed, looking back. Eiling twitched. The soldiers twitched. Scrap abandoned them, chasing after and easily catching her human and the Warm One.

They ran down the street, for anyone watching to see, and half dove into the Star Labs van they’d borrowed for the evening. At the doors, Scrap paused, blinked, and seemingly melted, shivering like a heat mirage, until she was the size of a tennis ball once again. She leaped into the van after them, pressing her face against Caitlin’s shaking hands and purring comfort.

“Oh, god. What was--Scrap, you--crap. This is Not good. Ronnie, drive, I’m calling Barry.” Caitlin instructed. Ronnie nodded.

“Where? STAR?”

“No, um--not my place either, they have my wallet, I think, it was in my purse.” Caitlin pulled her phone from her pocket, selecting the speed dial option she’d set for Barry.

As Ronnie drove, keeping an eye open for any vehicle following, Caitlin spoke.

“Barry, where are you? Never mind. General Eiling came after Ronnie, he’s after F.I.R.E.S.T.O.R.M. Get the Steins someplace safe, in case, and we’ll meet you at--Joe’s. What? No, we’re--we’re ok. Scrap...Scrap is very much a Metakitty, and deserves at least a pound of the best salmon we can find. Ok, we’ll see you.” Caitlin hung up, sighing deeply, still shaking.

“Joe’s house, um, Detective West-- it’s on Magnolia.” she said.

“Fine.” Ronnie made a turn.

From her perch on Caitlin’s knee, Scrap mewled her triumph, her claws a little bloody, her whiskers turned up in a cat smile.

“Did you know she could do that?” Ronnie asked.

“No. But thank goodness, right?”

“I think I need some pizza. And a drink. And an explanation.”

 _(I heard Salmon do I get salmon I want salmon is the nasty man going to come back he wasn’t dead I wasn’t sure you’d like that can I have the salmon?)_ Scrap mewed again, more urgently.  As if she understood, Caitlin rubbed the kitten’s ears.

“You get all the kitty treats and salmon you can eat, Scrap.”

_(Good I’m hungry being big is hungry and sleeeeeeep.)_

She was asleep and snoring in seconds.

 

 


	6. Interlude: Powerplay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another interlude. Kittens! Math! The Pipeline! Kittens in the Pipeline!

There was a crackle of bright white lightning along the Star Labs corridors that ended abruptly with a soft crash. 

In hindsight, they probably should have guessed. Taking care of kittens, even metakittens wasn’t exactly rocket science, and they’d managed to figure out most of Barry’s issues fairly quickly. Still, no one had been prepared for the first time Nyoom passed out.  
  
To be fair, Eddie had had a kitten as a kid, and when he’d overheard a somewhat frantic phone call from Cisco to Barry, he’d said that it was a thing cat’s just did. Run around and around and around and then just collapse into a puddle of kitten and sleep. Not something to worry about.  
  
But Eddie was still blissfully unaware of the fact that Nyoom was a speedster kitty, or that any of the other cats had any kind of powers. He’d thought he’d just gotten lucky--or unlucky--with Goldie and Bear, and for whatever reason hadn’t pestered Barry about it. Much.  
  
So the second time it happened, no one panicked. The third time, though, she’d been racing along the empty halls, streaking silver lighting, and had suddenly lost control of her legs and crashed headlong into the wall where it curved. Barry’d gotten there a second later, cuddling her. She didn’t react, her eyes closed and her tiny chest heaving.

“I think something’s wrong,” he said, holding her out to Caitlin. Scrap and Fuzzwhump, both having colonized the long table in the cortex, looked on, worried. One of the reddish cats, even Cisco couldn’t tell Frieda and Georgia apart, yowled.

_(Everyone! Upstairs?)_

_(What what what what what?)_ came a chorus of mews as the rest of the kittens flooded the room.

Caitlin blinked. “Um. Ok. I just need to run a test or two, ok?” She could swear that some of the kittens actually understood her, and hoped this was one of those times. “Someone wanna come with me to keep her calm if she wakes up?”

Barry, Scrap, and the calico named Sue ended up accompanying her into the back room, while Cisco and Doctor Wells tried to keep the rest occupied.

“They seem really worried. Do you think it’s something serious?” Cisco asked, rubbing Fuzzwhump's ears. Doctor Wells smiled faintly.

“No matter what it might be, I have utmost faith in Doctor Snow’s abilities. Apricot, out from under there, if you please.”  
A minute later, Barry emerged, Nyoom drowsily awake on his shoulder.

“She needs to eat more,” he said. “Her metabolism…”

“Is a lot like yours, oh, duh.” Cisco facepalmed. “I should have seen that coming. Ok, so if you need about, what, 5000% of the normal caloric intake to keep your speed up, and kittens need...hang on, I need to get to my computer.”

Faulkner was seated on the desk before the keyboard, poking at it. Cisco shooed him away. and started googling.

“Ok, so the average four month old kitten--she’s about four months, right?--needs about… 275 calories a day, but that’ll go up as she gets bigger… so if we assume the ratio is about the same...13,000. Yikes.”

“Wow.” Caitlin raised her eyebrows. “So does that mean...calorie kitty food? Like Barry’s calorie bars?”

“Yep.” Cisco said. “Unless we want her to keep passing out. Cuz Barry could just not run as much if he got low on energy, but try telling a kitten to stop running, you know? I’ll try to get something figured out soon. Shouldn’t be too hard, and hopefully she won’t complain about the flavor of the things giving her the energy to keep doing her zoom thing.” He gave Barry a rather more pointed look than he’d intended.

“Cisco, they tasted like _sawdust_.”  
“Hey, there’s only so much I can do if you want to fit 25,000 calories in a granola bar, dude. And I covered them in chocolate!”

“Sawdust!”

* * *

 

After Nyoom assured them all that she was _(fine, really, stop fussing)_ the rest of the kittens went back to business as usual. Faulkner spied on the screens and the click-boards, trying to puzzle them out when the People weren’t looking. Koshek found a comfortable position that wasn’t four feet in the air and napped, Schmendrick pressed up against him and Cassie on top of both of them. They missed Ginger, who had left with the Two-who-were-one fire humans, the Old one and Soft one’s Tom, but the kitten nap pile did alright enough. 

Peanut Butter and Sue ventured down into the pipeline, to visit the people in the boxes. Sue very much liked one of the people, even if he’d seemed annoyed with her before.  
  
According to Faulkner, who knew everything, more or less, and Fuzzwhump, who still wasn’t so great with people words but picked up on a few things her human said a lot, the man with the warm hands and nimble fingers who shouted so much was called Prism. Or Rainbow. Or Bivolo. Sue wasn’t sure what that meant, but it sounded nice enough. He had sounded very confused the first time Peanut Butter had let her in, but she had put a stop to that, purring as loudly as she could, and feeling about with her whiskers. Eventually he had stopped yelling and calmed down.

They all calmed down. That was what Sue did best, even if she couldn’t see too well, or find things easily, or figure out people talk. She could make things better. And Bivoprisbow or whatever his name was needed things to be better. He was always so frustrated, in a way that didn’t show but went lay close to the bones around the heart and never did anyone any good. So Sue would go and purr and eventually he’d sit and scratch her ears and tell her she was a “pretty kitty” and promise to “draw her if he ever got something to draw with.” The calico  wasn’t clear what that meant so much, but it sounded nice.   
  
Peanut Butter cuddled with her Girl, who had very fluffy hair and liked it when the kitten pawed at it or licked her face. It was always strange in the box, with the mirror wall. None of the other boxes had mirror walls. _(Lonely?)_ The sand colored kitten had asked the first time. The girl had looked at her strangely.

“How did you get in here? Where did you… never mind. C’mere kitty. C’mere. ( _Mom?_ )” She finished with a mew.

 _(Not mom. Friend?)_ Peanut Butter had insisted, coming closer and rubbing the girl’s leg. The human had mewed back, nonsense sounds and words, but Peanut Butter took it in stride. Humans were not particularly cat-smart. Now, several days later, they had their regular greetings. The Fluffy Girl chirped a _(Mom fish nap bird)_ and Peanut Butter responded with a _(Sure. Hello.)_ and spent the next several hours curled up on the Fluffy Girl’s lap, or on her back as she napped, or playing with some of the kitten toys Peanut Butter had brought in, little balls with bells and feathery floofs. Sometimes the woman even laughed. She was always happier, Peanut Butter could tell. It made her feel brushed and groomed and sun-bright, hearing her person laugh.

* * *

 

“See, she likes it,” Cisco said proudly, pointing at the bowl of kitten food. Nyoom had her face buried in it, a rumbling purr echoing as she scarfed down kibble like she was starving. Nyoom looked up after a moment. Her pale eyes locked on Faulkner, and she mewed shrilly before going back to the food. Faulkner, to everyone’s surprise, leaped back up to the computer desk and started batting at the keyboard.  
  
“No, down, kitty,” Barry said, going over to the computer. He stopped dead. “Um. Cisco? Caitlin? Doctor Wells?”

Faulkner was typing. **Noom say ples make tuna tast not samon** Faulkner looked at the screen, then up at the people surrounding him. His whiskers twitched in a cat smile.  Cisco’s eyes went wide.

“That’s...not possible. Cisco, did you do this?” Caitlin asked.

“Nope. Faulkner? If you can understand this--if you did this--type “y” for yes.”

**Y**

“It could be a fluke. Or a trick.” Caitlin said. “ Faulkner, can you type Y twice?”

**Why**

“Well, this is certainly a development.” Doctor Wells took off his glasses and rubbed them on his cardigan. “Can you tell us where you came from?”

“That’s complicated!” Cisco said. “He can write but he’s still a cat...isn’t he? Aren’t you?”

 **Am cat** Faulkner typed each letter one at a time, pressing the keys with a paw, lashing his tail with concentration that vanished halfway through. **my mother was a fish fish fish want fish food time yes**

“Well, we tried.” Barry chewed his lip. “He’s only a kitten. Maybe when he’s older?”

“Maybe.” Caitlin said, rubbing her forehead. Scrap squirmed in her pocket.

“Well...I guess it’s time for lunch.” Cisco said. “Anyone else hungry?”

Before even Barry could nod, a clowder of cats swarmed the supply room.

“Lunch it is.” Cisco went to grab a can opener.

 

* * *

 

Barry had an afternoon shift, but he was still worried about Nyoom, so he hoped she understood what “at least be quiet” meant and smuggled her into the office. It didn’t matter much, Eddie showed up to drop off a case file, and Bear stuck his head out of the detective’s bag.

“You brought your cat to work?” Barry asked. Eddie shrugged.

“He’s very helpful. And he’s really good at calming witnesses down. And, well, the whole...you know. Meta...metacat thing. Very helpful.”

“Well, you’re not wrong about being helpful. So he’s a lie detector?” Barry hoped to distract Eddie from discussing meta anything but Bear and Goldie, particularly if one of the cats was present. After Joe had told Eddie about Metahumans existing at Christmas, Doctor Wells had been more than a little concerned, and the fact that the kittens had powers? That had not helped matters. Barry was pretty sure  that Joe and Doctor Wells would not approve of Eddie figuring out the Flash’s Identity. And if Eddie found out, with the cats around, it wouldn’t be long until Iris did. Barry thought he’d be safer fighting, say, Leonard Snart again than Iris West after learning Barry’d been hiding that from her.

Luckily, it worked.

“You said it, so it has to be true.” Eddie raised a hand like a boy scout. “Seriously, try to lie.”

Barry tried. He honestly did, opening his mouth to claim to be a purple platypus-bear, the first outrageous lie that came to mind. No sound came out.

“See?” Eddie asked. “I think it’s helping Iris, too, she takes Goldie to interviews sometimes. She’s going to get to the bottom of every story that Mason guy has her sniffing at.”

“I bet,” Barry said, faking a smile.  With Goldie on her side, Iris could get herself into real trouble. Particularly if she got wind of Metahumans connections to STAR Labs...or the Reverse Flash. He shook his head. He’d do what he could to keep her safe, and so would everyone else in her life. And she could throw a punch. Still, Barry got the feeling this was going to get even more complicated.

“Anyway, I just came to drop this off and say hey.“ Eddie picked up his bag again. “Captain Singh’s keeping me and Joe pretty busy.”

Nyoom mewed a farewell to Bear from the cardboard box that had housed Barry’s new centrifuge. _(Say hi to Goldie.)_

 _(Will)_ Nyoom responded sleepily.

“So you brought your cat to work, too?” Eddie shook his head, flashed a grin, and left.  
  
Barry rushed through the file, and three others, careful to keep Nyoom occupied and not batting at the papers he was flying through. There wasn’t a lot he really needed to do: a fiber analysis, a DNA test on some saliva found on a beer bottle left behind, a tox screen. It was better than needing to go out to a crime scene, with Nyoom to keep an eye on and all.

Speaking of, the kitten was currently curled up asleep on the STAR Labs sweatshirt he’d abandoned on a chair. Most of the work done, Barry snapped a picture to show Cisco later.

He was on his way out for the evening, Nyoom much more alert and shifting inside his gym bag, when Sava stopped him, her face serious.

“Mr. Allen, is there something you didn’t tell me about my cat?”

 _Shoot._ Barry winced. “Well, we really don’t know where they came from, so…” a bad thought occurred to him. “ Is Havoc ok?”

“Ok?” Sava’s shoulders shook, and Barry wondered if he was about to get fired. Not that she could fire him for giving her a superpowered cat, that was not in the employee handbook. He’d checked. “ _OK?_ This morning the next door neighbor’s brat was joyriding his father’s power-lawnmower through my herb garden and--Havoc.” She paused and Barry’s heart sank. In his bag, Nyoom started to vibrate. and Barry clutched the bag to his chest trying to calm her.

“And Havoc is FINE.” Sava sounded on the verge of hysterics, waving one arm. Barry had never seen her like this. “He got run over by a Lawn Mower, but he walked it off. Johnny’s going to be traumatized for life, and the Lawn Mower’s in pieces, but my cat is apparently magical because he’s fine!”

“Oh,” was all Barry could manage. “Um. Well. You know, I think that…” Head CSI Sava gave him a look, and Barry cleared his throat. “I’ll tell the people at STAR Labs to be on the lookout for...odd powers. In the other cats. Um.”

“STAR Labs,” Sava mused. “I wonder if this has anything to do with the --the mysterious things that keep happening. Don’t look so surprised, Allen, I pay attention to the world. Detective West’s daughter keeps a blog, you know. If there are super-powered people--that Flash--then why can’t their be super-powered cats? Cat’s are magical enough normally.” She checked her watch. “You’re clocked out, and I need to go yell at Johnny’s father about my herb garden. Let me know if you learn anything, though.”

“Yeah, I will… do that.” Barry said earnestly. As Sava left, Barry’s eyes widened. If Eddie and Iris’s cats had powers, and now Head CSI Sava’s...and most of the kittens still back at the lab….His eyes flicked up to Captain Singh’s office, and he decided to get out of the precinct while he could.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cisco's math is math I actually did, in order to be accurate and also avoid writing my 8 page essay on Emily Dickinson over the weekend.


	7. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AND HEDGI SAID LET THERE BE PLOT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said before, when the chapters coincide with episodes, I won’t be doing every scene. just the ones the fit best with the story. the rest of the episode, unless otherwise specified by the text, happens, just off screen. Also, the timeline for events in episodes 15 and 16 is majorly screwed up even before time travel. like, is it day? is it night? how much time passes? was that last night? was that early morning? why is dante’s dinner at night in one episode if the party is during the day the next? IT’S A MYSTERY NO ONE KNOWS. I’ve seen each episode over 15 times for research and I STILL CAN’T FIGURE OUT WHAT TIME OF DAY ANYTHING IS SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN IT IS SUCH A MESS.

It wasn’t as though Cisco had ever had the hardest time waking up. Falling asleep took forever, and he tended to wake up far too often for comfort, but that had been his life since he was a kid, and had to make sure Dante wasn’t preparing some kind of prank. Still, actually getting up had become a lot easier with Fuzzwhump’s help. After the first day, she had adopted him, and it wasn’t like he could have just left her at Star Labs, not with her looking at him like that. So he’d grabbed one of the litterboxes and a cat bed and some of the toys, brought her to his crappy little apartment, and spent the next half hour attempting to kittenproof while she watched from his desk, bed, or  kitchen sink.

In the end it hardly mattered. She clung to him like a soft, furry burr, curling up on his pillow just above his shoulder and purring into his neck. Sleep came much quicker that night.

Such became the routine. Fuzzwhump woke him in the morning, pawing at his cheek or nose, pressing her tiny face under his chin or hand, and shrilling, and accompanied him to work, where she sat on his shoulder or next to his tools, or curled up to nap in his hoodie pocket, when she wasn’t playing with her brothers and sisters.  Unlike Scrap, she actually grew, a little, but not very much, and could still easily fit in Cisco’s cupped hands. She followed him everywhere, a small greyish shadow.  Everyone got used to it fast-- they had to, because like Faulkner and Nyoom, she was always underfoot.

“At least Scrap stays in Caitlin’s sleeve, Fuzz.” Cisco chided the kitten, scooping her up so she wouldn’t get stepped on. She purred, and climbed onto his shoulder, digging her tiny claws into his shirt and hunkering down.  Cisco tickled her chin and went back to work.

* * *

 

“I think I found a home for another of the kittens,” Barry said over a chocolate covered calorie bar and three danishes. “Whitsmen, Merry Whitsmen, one of the beat cops. Joe’s worked with her, and she was one of the ones that got involved with the--the thing with Snart and Rory, so she has reason to like and trust Star Labs, and the Flash. Not that she knows the two are connected, or anything, but, I mean, anyway. I mean, that shield thing you made, Cisco, it saved her life.”

“It would be nice to find more homes for the more adoptable kittens,” Doctor Wells said with a tight smile. “Not that they aren’t, ah, welcome, but…”

“There are a lot of them,” Caitlin agreed.

“Tell me about it.” Cisco eyed Faulkner, who was staring at a box as if reading the label, and Cassie, who was staring at a closet door, looking alert. A second later, Lucy popped into existence there.

“So we’ll just...get all the cats that aren’t super obviously magical and let her pick?” Caitlin asked. “Maybe she’ll take two.”

“About that,” Barry hedged. “I don’t think Captain Singh knows, or Iris, but Sava and Eddie both...they know something’s up. Havoc? Got run over. By a lawn mower. I think Sava would have killed the kid, except that Havoc was fine. Not a scratch.”

“...how?” Cisco asked.

“Metakitty.” Barry shrugged. “I dunno how. Maybe he turned to metal, or something, because she sent pictures of the mower and it was toast, just scrap.”

At the sound of her name, Scrap peaked out of Caitlin’s sleeve and chirped a greeting.

“And Goldie and Bear are some kind of lie detectors.” Barry finished. “I’m going to talk to Joe, but I don’t know how easy it’s going to be to keep things from Eddie, now.”

Doctor Well’s face darkened slightly, but he shook his head. “I’m sure we don’t need to worry about Detective Thawne. But I do feel the need to caution restraint. We should keep your secret as close as we can. I worry that perhaps too many people know already. After the scare with General Eiling…We have enemies, and the more people learn your secret, the more danger there is for both those who know and us.”

Barry winced. “Right. Yeah. No, I know. I’m being really careful. Nyoom usually warns me if Goldie or Bear is with Eddie, so that’s something.”

Everyone nodded, the moment of solemnity lasting until Georgia and Frieda charged through the cortex, chasing one of Cisco’s robotic mouse toys, and crashed into Koshek, who growled and stalked off to find another napping spot.

“Koshek’s getting better about not floating around as much,” Caitlin offered. “He’s put on a lot of weight, too, that might be part of it.”

Barry shrugged. “ Should I see if Whitsmen’s interested?”

“It would be safer than giving her Spike. I don’t think anyone other than us can handle Spike.” Cisco said, nodding at one of the chairs in the corner that currently sported a series of punctures and a sleeping cat. “Except maybe our Starling City friends.”

“I’ll talk to her about Koshek, then. Or maybe Greebo or Murgatroyd. Felix?”  Barry mused. Those were some of the only cats truly left. Apricot had devoted herself to Wells, though she did spend some time down in the Pipeline hanging out, and there was little chance of giving out Santiago or Schrodinger. Most of the remain cats had fairly showy powers, though no one was still sure of Rita’s or Fuzzwhump’s, or Cassie’s.  
  
“Fine, fine.” Doctor Wells waved a hand, which was instantly captured by Apricot. He scritched her ears. “And you had best go unless you want to be late.”

Barry glanced at the clock, called for Nyoom, who actually came, and took off.  
  
“I’ve gotta go. I’m having lunch with Clarissa.” Caitlin said as Cisco started gathering the papers Barry had left scattered in his wake.

“Do you think she’d like a guard kitten?” Cisco asked, nodding at Moose, who preened.

“I’ll ask.”  
  


* * *

 

“Mr. Allen?” Barry cringed. He was not late, he’d made sure of that, he was even a minute and a half early. But Sava was still standing in the cast off lab, looking stern.

“Um, Hi? Director Sava?”

“I need a list of all the people you’ve given kittens to.”

“Oh--uh...why?”

“I think you know why, Mr. Allen. Havoc, in the last twelve hours, has tried to give me a heart attack by getting hit by a bike, leaping off the top of a telephone pole and missing the roof, and climbing into the garbage disposal. That’s not normal, and I need to know if the other kittens you’ve placed are doing similar things.”

“Probably not, really, I…”

“Allen. I want the list. If Miss West can keep track of the human...oddities, then someone should do so for the cats, and I am far too busy. What happens if whatever this is spreads. Magical dogs? Hamsters? Mosquitoes? I know Detective Thawne has one, and the captain. List of names and phone numbers, by the time you clock out. I at least know about this Metahuman stuff, a little more than civilians out on the street. I don’t want some poor woman panicking because her cat suddenly caught fire or something without warning.”

It was the longest speech Barry had ever heard from his supervisor, aside from the time she’d lectured the entire CSI unit for a half hour after some important evidence had gone missing, but that had been down in the main lab, so Barry had been spared the worst of the speech.

“I’ll get that, then,” he promised.

“Good. There’s some cases for you to look at on your desk. Try to have them done before you take your lunch.” She sneezed twice, noticed Nyoom, and rolled her eyes. “I’d say don’t let Singh catch you, but he’s got his cat in his office half the time. Since when did this place become a petting zoo? I’ve got to go take more allergy meds. Honestly.” She stalked off, and Barry felt himself deflate in sheer relief.  
  


* * *

 

On his way to lunch, Barry stopped by Officer Merry Whitsemen’s desk and showed her a few of the pictures, and she nodded.

“Detective West said you had cats. And Thawne’s Goldie might be the best thing that’s happened to his social skills with witnesses since that girlfriend of his.  Keeps everyone real calm, gets good answers. Makes my life easier. Let’s see…. I got the day off on...Friday, if that works. I’ll come and see them then?”

“Yeah, sure, we’ll plan on that. Unless you’d rather I bring them to you?”

“That would be great actually. West has my address, I’ll see you Friday. Unless I see you at a crime scene before then, obviously.”

“Right. Oh, I--I gotta go, my Lunch break--” Barry moved toward the door, and she waved.

“Go on, eat.”

 

* * *

 

Cisco sat, leaning back in his chair with a bowl of popcorn balanced on the arm and Fuzzwhump half asleep on his chest, her heartbeat quick and light. Doctor Wells had locked his wheelchair in place, within easy reach of the popcorn, Apricot and Faulkner both draped across his feet. The silent movie played on the projector, occasionally batted at by Lucy or Rita.

“What movie did you say this was again? It’s quite funny,” Doctor Wells asked, reaching for more popcorn.

“I still can’t believe you’ve never seen any Buster Keaton. Dude is a master at the double take, comedic timing, I mean don’t get me wrong, Chaplin’s great, but--wait, you’ve seen Charlie Chaplin, right?”

“Must have been before my time,” Well said with a shake of his head, like it was a very good joke and he knew it.

“So’s all that opera you listen to. I’ll make you a list. I should have done that ages ago.” Cisco promised.

“Mm, please, do. And while I do appreciate this, I thought you had a family gathering to attend?”

“Nah. A dinner, but the real party’s tomorrow afternoon, and I mean, I was gonna ask Caitlin if she wanted to come, but then I figured, why go if I could just--not.”

“Things aren’t any better with your family, then?”

“Hey, we’re missing the movie.” Cisco said, absently stroking Fuzzwhump’s back.She purred, snuggling deeper. “And things have been pretty great since I stopped talking to them so much. Really, it’s not important."

“If you insist.” Wells looked back at the screen, in time to see Cassie launch herself at it from a desk chair. Luckily, it didn’t tear, only rippled. A heartbeat later, an alarm sounded, a break-in at the morgue. Cisco held Fuzzwhump steady as he got to the computers, directing Barry.

* * *

 

 _(I’m BORED)_ Nyoom mewed, lashing her tail. Her human, the only human fast enough to keep up with her, had left her at STAR Labs and while it was nice to be with her siblings, she was worried. He had seemed so upset, and had half yelled at the Big man  that lived with them, something about danger. Nyoom thought that was a little silly, the Big man was strong, and her human was fast. What danger could there be? Still she’d have to get Peanut Butter to get her out of the labs so she could go sit on the Big man’s lap, to protect him. He said he didn’t like cats, but he always gave her bacon when no one was looking. She liked him very much.  
  
 _(We know. Faulkner’s on it.)_ Georgia said lazily. _(Go play with Cassie. Or run around in the circle tube downstairs.)_

_(Don’t wanna. Wanna go outside.)_

_(Tough kibble.)_ Georgia’s fur rippled in a cat shrug and stretch.

 _(Think I found something, before they chased me away from the computers, something about needing to track weather_ ) Faulkner chirped, slinking into the kitten room and looking around. The others gathered close. Of all of them, Faulkner best understood Peoplespeak. The Twins were well enough at it, and then there were Goldie and Bear who had the knack for it, but the rest of them only picked up a few words here or there, the tones of voice and body language.

 _(Go on)_ Frieda said from her perch on the cat tree, where she was licking the ears of a struggling Rita.

 _(A name, I think. Mar-done. Had brother? He makes storms. And is upset at the Big man.)_ Faulkner said, sitting up importantly. _(Nyooman is looking for him. So is Big man and Puppy, I think.)_ The cats purred. Puppy was tall and nice and hadn’t visited since he came and took Goldie and Bear home, but his voice had been soft and they all liked him. He reminded Frieda of a big yellow puppy from one of the movies Fuzz’s human had watched, and the name had stuck.

 _(People make storms?)_ Cassie wanted to know, washing a velvety black paw. _(WHY?)_

 _(People are silly. They like the wet, I guess. Not much fur to get wet.)_ Schmendrick said knowingly, blinking. He curled up in a tighter circle on his back, and relaxed.

 _(It is raining.)_ Schrodinger reported, walking through a wall. _(I was waiting to see if Fuzz and Sco would come back, but they haven’t yet. They will get wet.)_

 _(Sco?)_ Koshek asked, ruffling his fur in distaste at the thought of rain.

 _(Her person, that’s his name, I think. That’s what Fuzz said.)_ Schrodinger responded, flopping into a box lined with sweatshirts to dry off.

 _(That’s a silly name)_ Moose remarked.

 _(People are silly._ ) Schmendrick repeated. _(You know that.)_

 

* * *

 

Raoul yowled from inside the captain’s office.  His person was gone, and he was not happy. There had been a storm inside, storms were not supposed to be inside, not like that, not real ones. And then the Nyooman had taken Davie away and no one had come back and he was getting worried. Didn’t people know that you were supposed to come back? It was too early for Davie to go home, and Robbie wasn’t there and all of this was wrong. Everyone looked sad, or scared, or both. The Big  man and  Puppy had gone somewhere, and no one had come back into the office.  
  
 _(WHERE IS MY HUMAN?)_ Raoul screeched, but no one seemed to hear him. There was a half eaten sandwich on the table, maybe if he ate it, Davie would come back and yell at him and then sigh and give him part, like he always did. Raoul leaped up on the desk.  
  
Nothing happened. Raoul blinked at the door, little spots of light dancing. Someone opened the door with a shout in words he didn’t understand, and a second later, Goldie streaked into the room, nuzzling her near-enough brother and licking his ear.

 _(Is ok?_ ) She asked.

_(Yes)_

_(Liar. Is not ok.)_ Goldie cuffed Raoul’s head, claws sheathed.

 _(Davie is gone. Worried.)_ Raoul finally said.

_(Is hurt. Nyooman took him to place where they will try help.)_

_(Miss my humans.)_ Raoul eyed the open door. Someone was standing there, in the uniform so many humans here wore.

“Here kitty kitty. It’s ok.”

Raoul hissed. ( _I wait here for Human. Do not go anywhere without Davie or Robbie.)_

The woman left. Goldie stayed with him. Outside, the rain slowed to a stop.

* * *

 

It was strange, Fuzzwhump thought, being at Star Labs with no one else but Sco. The other kittens were there, mostly, but they were not down here. Not in this room, which had smooth floors perfect for rolling on and so many new things to look at. There was a big metal circle, and she’d tried to climb on top of it but  Sco had shaken his head at her and made some noises that sounded like worry and “no” and she’d decided to leave it alone.  
  
While he was busy checking things and plugging things into other things, screens and lightboxes that hummed, Fuzzwhump batted at his shoelaces and raced across the room, hiding under a desk, crouching, and sprinting out to snag a scrap of paper or inspect the big machine.  
  
Sco frowned, and his heartbeat changed, and he made a noise like confusion, then flipped a switch, and everything lit up bright.

Fuzzwhump squeaked, because there was a person in the light, only it wasn’t right. It didn’t look at her, and the voice was funny and every fiber of her body shrieked that something was wrong.

 _(Should go. Should go now)_ she informed Sco, but he didn’t listen. she raced to his leg, pawed it, then to the door. _(Should go NOW)_ Her mew echoed, loud but not louder than the echoing Voice that scared Sco so bad.  
  
She was racing back to him when the doors opened, and she stopped in her tracks. The Wheel man, the Sitting man who didn’t move from the chair, was standing there. Walking. He shouldn’t be walking, should he? Clapping. People clapped when they were happy, like purring, but his voice didn’t sound happy, and Sco’s breathing was fast and loud, she could hear it even from this far away.  
  
The small grey tabby was larger than she had been a month ago when she’d first come here, but she was still small, her claws good for clinging and not much else. But now the man in black was out of the wheelchair, and he was walking towards them both and her human was scared and this was wrong. She launched herself as she’d seen Frieda do, or Cassie, or Havoc.  
  
The man caught her around the middle and held her too tightly. She shrilled and writhed but he did not let go.

“Fuzz!” Sco said her name and some other things, and she fought against the hand, trying to get to her person.  
  
They were both talking again, the Wheel man walking in a slow circle and Sco watching, fear radiating off of him. The voices were not harsh or loud or angry, and Fuzzwhump couldn’t understand most of it, but some words stuck in her kitten mind. Killed. Why? Helping. Help you. Smart. Not. No one. 

His other hand was moving like a purr through the air so fast, like Nyoom running, and Fuzzwhump struggled again, hissing and growling, _(Leave him alone!)_

She was close enough that she could hear Sco’s heart, as fast as her own, see tears in his eyes, smell the sad and the scared on him. She sank her teeth into the hand that held her and hung on.  
  
The Wheelman who was not the Wheelman let go without looking, snapping his wrist and she landed, claws ready to slow her fall, on her person’s shirt. She glanced up, purring to try and say it would be alright she was there now, she saw red lightning, sparking, a hand inside Sco. (Stop it! You’re hurting him!) she yowled, but the man didn’t seem to notice.  
  
Her person fell. His heart had stopped purring. She dropped beside him.  
  
The man was walking away, and Fuzzwhump, breathless and stunned, pressed her tiny wet nose to Sco’s cheek, to his ear. She meweled, _(Get up! Get up! Wake up! Hurry)_ But he didn’t move. She squirmed under his arm, to stand on his chest and knead her claws in the soft shirt that smelled like safety and mewed again. _(Sco, get up, please get up, please.)_

Nothing. She shoved her head under his chin, twitching her whiskers the way she always did when he didn’t want to make breakfast, but there was nothing.   
_(Noooooooooooo!)_ the tiny kitten keened, pale eyes closed tight. She sat, stilled by understanding, and put her head down, wrapping her tail around her as if it could protect her, the way she had not protected him.  Her heart beat painfully fast against the place where his should have matched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that Canon.


	8. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just because this is mildly AU and not everything is the same doesn't mean I would kill him off for real, you guys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long. I’ve been so busy. But I’mma try to stay on schedule from now on. Hope you like it.

“Barry? Dude, what happened? You need to get to the morgue, like, right now.” Cisco eyed the blinking dot that was Barry Allen on his computer. Barry had stopped dead, and sounded confused, but Cisco suddenly had something more important to deal with.  
  
Fuzzwhump, who had been curled up on his lap, her little claws hooked into his slacks, had woken up, and promptly launched herself, shrieking with feral, quasi-demonic rage, at Doctor Wells. Cisco caught her, holding her to his chest and whispering soothingly, but she fought tooth and claw, spitting, her fur fluffed up.

“What is wrong with you, kitty?” Cisco asked her, trying to smooth his kitten’s fur with a calming hand. Fuzzwhump refused to be calmed. She twisted and writhed as only kittens can, actually drawing blood as she tried to get out of Cisco’s hold. He yelped and let go in surprise, and the grey tabby took her chance.  
  
Doctor Wells stopped her before she could attempt to claw his face off, deftly gathering her in his hands. “Hey,” he said, a stern parent to an unruly child. “No. No. That is uncalled for.” She didn’t seem to understand, her hummingbird heart pounding as she growled. Cisco reclaimed her, clicking his tongue.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into her, Doctor Wells, I’m sorry.” He squeezed a little tighter, trying to make sure Fuzzwhump would stay put. “ Maybe she’s sick, or got into the catnip, or something.”

“Ugh--guys? What’s going on?” Barry’s voiced echoed.

“ Fuzz might have tried to rip out Doctor Wells’ throat, but it’s cool.”

“Not...where am-- did you say the morgue?” Barry asked again, clearly less worried about the kitten chaos and more focused on his apparent memory failure.

“Yeah, silent alarm, go.” Cisco called, taking Fuzzwhump into another room. “ You got this, Doctor Wells? I’m gonna try and get her calm.”

“Wait what? Also, morgue, um--the coroner's dead again and ok, this is really--” Barry started as Cisco left, Wells waving him off.  
  
“Ok, Fuzzmonster, what on earth was that? What happened?” Cisco cuddled her, but was careful and wary. She was little, but her claws were still sharp, and he liked his flesh intact, thank-you very much.

In the back room, she seemed to ease a little, still mewing frantically and licking at every inch of his hands and arms she could reach, wrapping her paws around his arm and clinging, clearly terrified.

“Ok, it’s ok. Calm? Calm. Chill, Fuzzie, chill. It’s ok. I’m right here, ok? Calm down.”

As if finally able to hear him, she circled in his arms, pressing her face into his shirt above his heart and shuddering. Cisco supported her with one arm, stroking her back and smoothing out her feathery plume of a tail with the other, still murmuring assurances.

“We’ll get Auntie Caitlin to check you out, ‘kay, little diddle? Make sure you aren’t sick.”

Fuzzwhump looked up, meeting his eyes, and blinked them slowly, a purr vibrating her entire body.

For a heartbeat, it felt alien, and wrong, almost terrifying, but Cisco shook off the feeling, and hugged his cat close. She snuggled into the hug, burying her face in the crook of his elbow, her heart pounding against his.

* * *

 

The humans were busy talking about something. Fuzzwhump, after reassuring herself that her human was very much alive, had wasted little time in locating Freida and Georgia

_(I’m telling truth! The wheel man killed him!)_

_(Fuzz, I think you need to stay out of Nyoom’s catnip. Sco is fine. The wheel man is fine. You had a bad dream.)_ Frieda chided.

_(Did not!)_

_(Did so)_ Georgia swished her tail into Fuzzwhump’s face. The younger kitten sneezed and batted it down.

_(DID NOT I SAW IT. HE GOT UP AND HE KILLED SCO)_

_(Fuzz, chill. Sco is alive. You had a bad dream or something. Calm down.)_ Faulkner licked a paw and swiped it over his ears.

 _(No! I know what saw! You have to warn him! Use the box! Tell him! Don’t go down to the place, because the—the wheel man walked and, and, and…)_ Fuzzwhump shrilled.

 _(This is a waste of time. I’m going to take a nap.)_ Schrodinger announced, stalking off through a wall.

 _(Fine, don’t listen. I’ll just—I’ll just protect him myself.)_ Fuzzwhump chirped angrily, turning her back on her family.

 _(Aaaawww, Fuzzwhump,)_ Nyoom called after her, but the grey kitten ignored it, going in search of her human, intent on never letting him out of her sight again.

 

* * *

 

There was another human in the Box Room, and he was loud. Sue was unhappy, loud people always made her human upset and no one seemed to understand how hard she worked to help him calm down. So she got Peanut Butter to let her into Prisbow’s box, and then Peanut Butter went to find someone to make the Loud Man be quiet. She curled into the circle of Prisbow’s arms, purring and rubbing her face against his cheek. He sighed against her and scratched her ears the way she liked.

 When she left at last to get some lunch, she saw Murgatroyed in with the Loud Man, who had calmed somewhat. Well, he was lying down and Murgatroyed was sprawled across his chest, and Murgatroyed was big, the biggest of them all, so that probably helped. Sue purred, and made her way up to the big room for some food, and the intent to bring a jingle ball down to Prisbow, and maybe one of those toy mice for Murgatroyed and the Loud Man. Then again, Peanut Butter’s Girl had shrieked when she’d first seen one of the mice, so maybe that was a bad plan.  
  
Sco was talking to the Soft Girl, holding Rita in one hand while Fuzzwhump stood guard on his shoe. He ran his other hand through his long hair, and seemed upset. Sue wished she could understand more people talk, but the sounds didn’t make sense in her head, so she purred and left, with a backwards half-glance at Fuzz that said (see, he’s fine) but Fuzzwhump either didn’t see, or just ignored.

There was a pack of kitty treats on a table within easy leaping distance. Sue ate half of them, then jumped back to the floor before anyone saw.

* * *

 

Barry sighed in relief, back in his office. Well, not quite relief, things were still—well. What had Doctor Wells said, after learning what he’d done? That Time itself would find a way to replace any tragedy? But surely this time, he’d be expecting something, and it couldn’t be worse than Joe missing-maybe-dead, and Captain Singh paralyzed and maybe brain-dead, poor Raoul wailing like a bansidhe in the back office, and a tidal wave about to destroy everyone and everything. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d had much of a choice. He couldn’t just sit by and let things like that happen to his family, not if he could do something. He wished he’d brought Nyoom back to the station with him, but she’d been running around the accelerator, and though he could have caught her, it was better she wear herself out now than at two AM.  
  
He checked the door, then sped through one of the case files on the desk, filling out the paperwork in record time, even for him.  The next two took a little more time, even with the fixed up/ borderline new equipment Sava had wranged for him, but he still finished them before his coffee had even had time to cool. It was a good distraction from whatever danger might be brewing. Pleased with the work—and the proof that the suspect in custody for the Stevenson murder was, in fact, innocent, as Eddie and Goldie suspected—he carted the files down to Sava’s office.  
  
She was on her phone. “As I was saying, Ms. Page,” she said, and Barry paused, sure he recognized the name. “I just want to meet with you and, ah, Eevee, was it? There’s a few of us, and I’m sure you must have noticed something…odd. No, I assure you, I have no intention off—wait, hello? Hello? Did she just hang up on me? Rude.” Sava hung up the corded phone and scowled, then noticed Barry.

“Ah, Mr. Allen. The Stevenson case?”

“And the Manning and Dahl—Dahle—“

“Dahlheimer, yes, good.  Go get yourself a, a coffee or something. I’m sorry, this is rather important and—“

“Oh!” Barry remembered suddenly. “Kenna, right? Who adopted…”

“Yes. Either she hasn’t noticed anything odd about her kitten, or she’s hiding something. I wonder if I could send Detective Thawne and that Lie Detector of his over…hmmm. Oh, you’re still here. You can go. I’m sure there are other things you can work on.”

Barry beat a hasty-but-still-normal-human-speed retreat.

 

* * *

 

“Cisco, I don’t think this is a good idea, I really don’t.” Caitlin said as Cisco put a large ribbon-bow on Rita’s head. The grey mackerel tabby purred, then blinked out of sight and back again, so that for a moment all that was visible was the orange bow. Cisco grinned.

“No, no this is the _greatest_ idea.”

“We're giving your brother a metakitten,” Caitlin stated flatly. “And not just any metakitten, but the one that turns invisible. How on Earth is that a good idea? He’ll lose her and panic.”

“Exactly.” Cisco looked smug.

“Cisco!”

“What? We’ll come and get her, day after tomorrow, because she’ll be too much for him to handle, and I’ll finally be able to show my folks I’m better at something. And, Rita gets to cause some chaos. It’s a win-win.”

“Cisco, that’s not very nice.” Caitlin turned the judgmental glare she mostly used on Barry when he didn’t want to seek medical treatment on Cisco, but he shrugged.

“Neither’s Dante.”

“I can’t believe you.” She grumbled, but in the end sighed. “Oh, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

They got Rita settled, and Cisco packed a box with some stuff—kitten food, one of the cat beds, a litterbox, and set off in Caitlin’s little car. Fuzzwhump poked her head out of Cisco’s pocket, then ducked back in. She far preferred the padded basket on the front of his bike to traveling by car. Rita didn’t seem to notice, curled up asleep. The tip of her tail ruffled the cellophane bow.  
  
“Hey, man, glad you could make it.”

Caitlin guessed that the man was Cisco’s brother, and she could see the resemblance, somewhat. She also understood why Cisco had wanted moral support. Dante Ramon had a sort of aura of smug superiority, and if she had been a cat, her hackles would have been up. Fuzzwhump and Scrap, curled up inside pockets, both seemed to pick up on the unease both of their humans felt, hearts racing, but Rita simply looked around, curious, and raised a spotted grey paw to her bow.

“Yeah, of course,” Cisco said, trying to inject feeling into it and failing rather miserably. He’d rather be just about anywhere.

“Hi,” Dante turned his gaze on Caitlin without giving Cisco a second look. “I’m Dante.”

“This is my friend, Caitlin,” Cisco started, but Caitlin finished the sentence herself.

“We work together, at S.T.A.R Labs. And this,” she gestured at the bundle is Cisco’s arms.

“Is Rita." Cisco handed over the kitten as Dante’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Um.” Dante blinked down at the kitten, who clung to his jacket sleeves.

“Happy birthday.” Cisco grinned wickedly. “Unless you don’t think you can handle a cat? We’ve got stuff for her. I’ve been taking care of—what, two dozen? So we figured you could probably handle just one.”

Caitlin snorted internally, guessing Cisco’s ploy. Dante looked affronted.

“If you can, I’m sure it can’t be that difficult” he said a little snappish. Caitlin put the box of supplies under a table, shaking her head. This was probably morally wrong in some capacity, but she didn’t care.

The rest of the party went no better. Cisco’s mother hardly noticed Cisco’s presence, Cisco tugged at his shirt collar as if looking for an escape, and both Scrap and Fuzz got increasingly agitated. Rita, on the other hand, lapped up the attention of all the Ramon cousins and family members, and practically glued herself to Dante, having decided he was hers.  
  
Caitlin wondered if Metakittens imprinted on people, like ducklings, or werewolves in poorly-written romance novels that she had definitely never read, nuh-uh, no way. (She’d been stuck on a 12 hour flight and desperate, ok, so sue her). It would make sense.  
  
Rita even sat on his lap as Dante gave an “impromptu” recital, rattling through music Caitlin thought sounded vaguely familiar, but couldn’t name.

“I was a little rusty,” Dante told her, smiling to show off suspiciously white teeth, looking like a model in a commercial for dentists. It was disconcerting.

“Well, If that’s what you sounded like rusty,” she laughed, more because Scrap was squirming and wow, she could understand why Cisco hated family get-togethers. “I can’t imagine what you sound like when you’ve practiced.”

“For you,” he said and Caitlin had a flash of panic-turned-annoyance. “I’d practice morning, noon, and night.”

Cisco laughed sharply. “That would mean getting up in the morning.”

Dante turned to him, that smug, plastic smile still very much in place. “So, Still working at S.T.A.R. Labs? Too hard to find another job?”

“I wasn’t _looking._  I like my job.”

“And we need him. Without him, we couldn’t do …what we do,” Caitlin hesitated, stumbling over her explanation. Dante smirked.

“He’s loyal. Just like a dog.”

Cisco tensed. Scrap and Fuzzwhump tensed. Caitlin braced herself.  
“Aw, don’t be like that _mi hija.”_ Dante chuckled, and Cisco turned on his heel and left.

“”Happy birthday.” Caitlin made to follow.

“You don’t have to go. Left him sulk. He’ll get over it.” Dante reached for her hand

“Actually, I do. Have to go. Right now. Also? I’m engaged. Goodbye.” Caitlin stalked out, her head held high.

 

“What a jerk. I hope Rita makes him think that piano’s haunted before we take her back.” Caitlin announced as she unlocked her car.

“Yeah, me too.”

“Maybe we should have brought him Spike instead.”

“I thought you didn’t approve of using metakitties as “petty” revenge,” Cisco said as he looked over at her.

“That was before I met your brother.”

“Told you so.”

* * *

 

Iris West tapped her pen against a stack of files Mason had left on her desk, trying to figure things out. Everyone—everyone—was acting so odd. Barry, Eddie, Mason, Linda the sports reporter, who had just come over to say that Barry broke up with her—not that Iris knew why—her dad, even her _cats._  
  
She needed answers. And she needed them now. Maybe she could get some out of Barry during their lunch date--not a  _date_  date, but, well, whatever it was-- for the next day. If not, she’d need to call in the big guns.

* * *

 

Sco had left her behind. Fuzzwhump sat at the door of the apartment, dejected and afraid. Sco had made a phone call and then he’s left her behind, and that was Not Right. He took her everywhere. He always took her everywhere. This was not right.  
  
She mewed her frustration at the door, she clawed at it and howled and threw herself at it, but it never budged. What if he was going to the Downstairs Room, with the big machine and the Wheel man killed him? He shouldn’t go anywhere without her, didn’t he listen, didn’t he know there was danger?

No, he didn’t. No one did, no one believed her, and now Sco was in trouble and she knew it. The clock on the table—she knew what that was- flashed numbers, the patterns familiar enough that she knew it was Night time, even if light came from the windows. There were streetlights out there. Sco always came back before it got too late. He had his bike, or the Nyooman brought him home, and he wasn’t back yet.  
  
Sometimes Frieda could hear her, if she thought really hard, Fuzzwhump remembered. Even from far away. So she’d try that. Maybe they’d listen, now.  
  
She sat, tail curled around her paws, tired but too worried to sleep, by the door, so that as soon as Sco came back she could chew on his ankles and remind him not to do that ever again.

Fuzzwhump waited until her pads ached and she fell over, but the door didn’t open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hah. Sorry not Sorry.


	9. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I return from Hiatus with 4000 words, Dante's birthday sucks, and Cisco's not getting his security deposit back courtesy of Fuzzwhump's paranoia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait, guys! But, long chapter?  
> Kittens don’t always have correct grammar. Sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t, because I’m not consistent and I do what makes it funniest, I hope.   
> Oh no, I wrote action? Or attempted. Yike. This kind of merged with idea types I’ve had floating around for AUs of episode 16, brought on by “holy crap, hedgi, why the heck have you seen this episode 21 times, are you insane?”  
> Also, I don’t speak Spanish. And google translate is unreliable and I don’t wanna get into that, so, sorry, I’m doing the mono-lingual cop out and I feel bad for it. Text will indicate when it’s a full Spanish sentence until I track down my Spanish speaking friends because I’m Lazy.   
> Kay, shutting up now.

So, getting a ninja cat dumped on him was not the worst birthday gift Dante Ramon had ever gotten.  Even if he wasn’t sure exactly where the darn thing had gone, skittering away under a table and then…somewhere else shortly after another stint at the piano, after most of the guests had left. No, the Cat was not the worst birthday present even of that particular birthday.

Getting hit over the head—and sucker punched in the face-- as he took some of the trash out was. He didn’t remember hitting the ground, but the next thing he was aware of was waking up with his face pressed into carpeting. His head ached, and he tried to sit up. A firm hand pressed down on the back of his neck and he realized, very suddenly, that his hands were tied and there was cloth weighing down his tongue.

“Stay put,” a gruff voice commanded, and Dante froze. What was going on?  His family wasn’t rich by any stretch of imagination, and none of them were particularly important. He worked in a music store selling pianos and recorders and giving lessons to spoiled kids, for heaven’s sake.  
Something soft brushed his ankle between the top of his sock and the cuff of his slacks, but he didn’t dare look, just tried to get his breathing under control.  
There had to be a way out of whatever this was.

* * *

 

Fuzzwhump woke with a jolt and peered around. It was still night, she could tell that from the way the light filtered in from outside the windows, harshly orange and flicker instead of warm and soft like sunshine.  
Sco was still not home. Fuzzwhump paced, working stiffness from her paws, and tried to think.  His bag was still on the table, he always took the bag when he went to see the others, or one of them. There was one that he put one of his Screen boxes that folded flat in, that one was gone, but he usually took this one too, and he never went there at night. She was not allowed on the table, but that hardly mattered now.  She climbed up the side of the chair, digging her claws into the wood , then scrabbled to the top of it and flung herself bodily onto the table, wishing she could jump as well as Faulkner or Frieda. She landed easily, and nosed open the bag.

It smelled like her human and the things he liked, the food he didn’t share with her that came in little crinkly papers and bright colors, the stuff he sprayed on his screen to clean it, pens full of ink that she liked to chew on until he took them away and gave her wooden pencils instead. A shudder of Sad went through her, nose to tail. What if Sco was hurt? The Wheelman might have hurt him, might have killed him, and she wasn’t there to stop it. She pawed through the bag, pulling out papers until she could wriggle inside. Some of them got caught on her claws and ripped. Sco wouldn’t like that, but Fuzz didn’t care. If Sco didn’t like it, he could come home and stop her, so there.  
After a minute she squirmed out. It was small and dark in the bag and it smelled like Sco but it wasn’t. She twitched an ear. Maybe he was hiding. Maybe he’d come home while she was asleep and was hiding. Shrilling, she charged into the bed room, or tried. The door was closed. She threw herself at it, and it rattled.  
Again. Again. Usually Sco opened it if she did that enough. Usually it wasn’t closed. She remembered the tricks Frieda and Georgia had told her and leaped for the shiny circle. On the third try she had it and curled her whole body around it. It shifted and the door swung open.  
Empty.  
Fuzzwhump growled, fur fluffed up on end so she looked at least as big as Sue, which was still not very big, and backed up against the wall, looking around suspiciously.

 _(FRIEDA)_ she tried thinking at the momkitten, who had taken care of everyone before Sco and the Soft one and the Nyoomman had been there. ( _FRIEDA HALP.)_

All she could do was wait, Fuzz knew. She did not want to. Full of panicked energy, she could not stay still. Maybe if she ran as fast as Nyoom, she could get outside and start looking. Maybe she could make a lot of noise, and the Old Lady who smelled like mothballs and lived next door would open the door and she could get out.  
Fuzzwhump left the bedroom, her mind fixed on the bookshelf in the big room. That would make lots of noise.

* * *

 

Dante strained at the ropes around his wrists again, unwilling to just sit by like a captive princess in an opera, because that never ended well. He’d seen his kidnapper’s faces, and Cisco—of course this was because of Cisco and Cisco’s job, of course it was—clearly knew exactly who they were. That meant they could be identified, and that coupled with the fact that Snart and Mick—vaguely familiar names—wanted science-fiction type weapons, like something out of his little brother’s comic books, left Dante with a very bad feeling. No way they were just going to walk away from this.  
“Stay cool, ok, let me do my thing,” Cisco muttered, looking up from the laptop that both brothers had been sorry to learn would not connect to the internet no matter how Cisco tried. Snart, the ringleader, had taken their phones, as well as every other electronic Cisco had had on him, as if a souped up MP3 player from 2006 could be used to signal the police.  
It totally could, but Cisco wasn’t sure if Snart knew that or was just being careful. _I don’t think a vacuum cleaner with LEDs is gonna help this time. If it was just one of them, I could probably use the cold gun against them, but three of them, one of me, and Dante in the crossfire…_

“Oh, your Mechanical engineering skills are gonna save us?”

“More than your Beethoven, so if I were you I’d shush, I need to concentrate.” Cisco fired back, fiddling with the firing pin. Maybe he could jam it, put in a second safety, something. He couldn’t just hand Snart and his buddy weapons, not when they’d nearly killed Barry, Caitlin, those cops… He swiped hair behind his ear and blinked hard, trying to follow his own advice and keep calm. Dante interrupted his thinking again.

“What are you doing here?”

“Trying to save your life! Believe me, this was not how I wanted to spend my—“

“Not you. You.” Dante gestured with bound hands at his lap. “How did you _do_ that?”

Cisco blinked. Maybe he should have been more worried about the bloody bruise on the side of Dante’s head. Then something occurred to him.

“Dante, did they get Rita, too?”

“I don’t know, Idiot, they hit me over the head, but there’s a cat on my lap. An _invisible_ cat.”

“Rita, can you go get—“ Cisco stopped himself before saying “ Barry.” “ The others? Yeah? The others? I bet Caitlin has Tuna treat. Go home, go find Peanut Butter. C’mon. Go on.”

Dante snorted.

“Is she doing anything? I can’t tell.” Cisco said.

“She’s chewing on my shirt sleeve. Wait. Why are you not surprised that—did you know she was invisible? I swear to God, Cisco, if this was--”

“Man, I knew should have given you Spike or Schrodinger, they’d be really useful right now.”

“You gave me an invisible cat on purpose?!”

“….ye- _es_. Yell at me later.  See if she’ll chew through your ropes.”

Dante shifted slightly. It wasn’t like he hated cats or anything. He just preferred being able to see them, and them not being prank gifts. “Ok, you. Chew on these, and I’ll give you salmon every night for a year.”

It was a better plan than “sit here and hope we don’t all die.”

* * *

 

“Has anyone seen Cisco?” Caitlin asked as Scrap climbed from her pocket to give nosebumps to Felix and Moose, both sprawled out in the middle of the walkway waiting to trip someone up. “I don’t think he had a very good day yesterday.”

“It got better” Barry said. “Trust me. What, Nyoom? You already had six bowls. Wait five minutes, fishbreath.”  
Nyoom twined around his ankles, looked up, and batted her eyes at him. Barry gave in.

“He’s not here, then?” Caitlin asked. “What about Fuzzwhump? He wanted me to run another test, in case she was sick.”

“Haven’t seen them,” Barry said, getting down the bag of cat food from a locked cupboard. He was more or less instantaneously mobbed, and it took all of his agility to not get knocked over.

“Well, I’m going to call. Just, to see if Fuzzwhump’s doing better.”

“Caitlin, maybe give it more time. It’s not that late, he probably just….overslept.” Barry reddened slightly, and Caitlin huffed.

Doctor Wells looked around, counting cats, and paused. “Rita’s missing, it seems, unless she’s sulking.”

“That’s funny, she usually turns visible for food.” Barry muttered, looking around. “ Maybe she’s down in the pipeline?”

“Ah, no.” Caitlin coughed. “She’s, um, with the Ramons. Cisco’s brother. It was his birthday and,” well, she wasn’t about to say it had been a petty prank, not when Dante clearly deserved it. “I thought it would be nice. She’s the best behaved of the unattached cats….” Her voice squeaked as she trailed off. “You know, I will call right now and make sure it’s ok. I’ll get the number from Cisco.” Caitlin decided, and dug her phone out.  
There was no answer—it went right to voice mail.  
“Cisco never turns off his phone, not even in movies. Just puts it on silent.” Caitlin looked up. “Don’t tell me that’s not odd.”

“Well, last night, there was this girl—“ Barry started, before the desk phone started to ring.  
“What?” Dr. Wells blinked. Star Labs wasn’t even officially open, so why was someone calling? Unless it was an automated carpet cleaning telemarketer?

“Hello?” he asked. Apricot leaped onto his lab.

“Is this the workplace of Francisco Ramon?” an old woman’s voice croaked.

Dr. Wells blinked in confusion. “What is this call concerning, Ms…?”

“Cantwell, Doreen Cantwell. Put that boy on the phone right now.”

“I am afraid I can’t do that, Ms. Cantwell, but I would be more than happy to take a message.”

There was a moment of stony silence. “He left his cat at home, alone, while he goes off to work at some ungodly hour of the morning, and the poor thing is making a racket. Why you have him leave so early I don’t know, and I don’t care, but that cat has been screeching. You tell him to come calm her down, or I’ll have my grandson knock down the door. Believe I will!”

“Ms. Cantwell, I must ask—“

“He’s away at school, Hudson University, you know, but he’ll come back, oh that poor cat.”

“Ma’am, please—“

“I think it’s dreadful, and Francisco is usually so careful, except when he watches movies during my Sunday nap, but still. It sounds like there’s a tornado in there!”

That last was shouted, and Caitlin looked at Barry. “Mardon’s still locked up, right?”

“Yeah?” there was a streak of lightning as Barry went to check and returned. “Yep.”

“Doctor Wells, I have a spare key, I’m going over there. Now.” Caitlin got up and gathered Scrap. “Barry? It’ll be faster.”

Barry nodded. As he and Caitlin left, Dr. Wells managed to cut into the old biddy’s monologue with a curt “Yes, well, it should be resolved shortly.”

Wells shooed Apricot off his lap, and went to consult Gideon, to make sure things were still in order.

* * *

 

 _(I SAID HE WAS IN TROUBLE AND YOU DID’T LISTEN)_ Fuzzwhump mewled, staring at the other cats.

 _(Fuzz, we don’t know . Sometimes humans do silly things like go out. Sure he’s fine.)_ Nyoom licked a paw and tried to brush the static from her coat with limited success.

 _(I can prove it!)_ Fuzz cried.

 _(Fuzz, really, you need calm down.)_ Frieda purred soothingly.

 _(NO. I’m telling you, I—he was dead, he was dead and it was the Wheelman and and and he wasn’t, but—but now he’s gone and why don’t you believe me? I’m telling truth, Sco’s in trouble, I know is, please.)_  Fuzz lashed her tail.

 _(Fine.)_ Peanut Butter slid into place beside the younger kitten and licked one of Fuzzwhump’s ears. _(We’ll look for him. Won’t we? Sco’s Papacat. And if Fuzz says he’s maybe in danger…..)_

 _(Frieda, he always comes to feed us, and today he didn’t, so I think we shouldcheck. Maybe Fuzz sees the future like Cassie.)_ Georgia mewed. ( _Cassie? Did you see anything?)_

 _(Nope. Just Nyooman leaving?)_ The smudgy black and white cat said as Nyooman answered his phone and left in a blur. Nyoom chased after him, gone in a flash.  
Fuzz didn’t wait, just took off towards the doors, racing back and forth and skidding on the tile until Peanut Butter came over and linked Tails with her. Together they walked through it, and the tawny cat went back for the others. Fuzz shook her head, hating the feeling of walking through things but knowing she had to, to find Sco.  
  
The big room downstairs, with the metal platform, was empty. There wasn’t even a smell of Sco, or of the Wheelman. Fuzzwhump darted around, nose almost to the ground, searching.

( _It…it was here. He was here! He was, I—I saw it, I was there, I…)_ Fuzzwhump looked up at Peanut Butter and Frieda. _(Where is he? Where is my human?)_

 _(Don’t know, Fuzz.)_ Peanut Butter mewed.

( _We go upstairs now. Georgia say, Faulkner knows something.)_ Frieda chirped, twitching her ears.

 

Upstairs, the Humans were indeed very upset. Sue could tell that much without even entering the room, and she moved to circle the Nyooman’s legs. He didn’t reach down to give her pets, which she thought was rude of him, and moreover, he was not calming down.

 _(What say?)_ Fuzzwhump mewed worriedly, hearing her human’s name.

 _(Something about a cold. Humans get cold, they don’t have much fur.)_ Faulkner peered up at the screens. The Wheelman was typing something, and he wanted to see what it was. Suddenly there was a picture up on the main screen, and Fuzzwhump felt her heart stutter. It was Sco! It was Sco, getting into a _Car-monster._

( _Ok. Now says, Snart’s sister. Sco is with her. I not think is good person. Wheelman does not like, Nyoomman do not like.)_ Faulkner translated the human babble.

 _(My human has bad dreams times. Sometimes says word, Nart. Maybe is same.)_ Scrap mewed from her perch.

 _(We save Sco.)_ Fuzz declared, her tail ramrod straight. _(We find Sco, we save Sco.)_

 _(YES)_ the remaining cats meowed together. All but Frieda, who shook her head as if trying to get a bug off her nose.

 _(I hear voice. Is scared. Is Rita.)_ She blinked her green-gold eyes. _(Is with Sco and littermate and Bad People. Georgie, help)_

* * *

 

“Any luck?” Cisco hissed to Dante across the table, keeping an eye on Mick Rory, who was busy with some setting fancy alcohol on fire.   
“She’s trying,” Dante muttered back, scooting his knees closer to the table leg his hands had been tied to so that Rita could chew better. He’d never known a cat smart enough to listen to orders, or to keep trying even when she was interrupted, or tired.

Twice she’d taken little naps, turning visible for a few minutes. Cisco and Dante had worried Snart would see her, but they’d had that much luck, at least. Still, the ropes were thick, and Rita’s mouth was little and kitten soft.

“Hey, You, you’re doing great. Keep it up,” Dante whispered to where he thought Rita’s ears might be. One flicked and brushed his cheek.  
“This has to work. If they were gonna let us go, they would have already.” Dante muttered, switching to Spanish.

“I know.” Cisco responded in the same language.   
“You know who they are.” It wasn’t a question.

Cisco only nodded.

“How do you get mixed up in this kind thing? Making weapons for comic-book type super villains?”

“Believe me, I’d love to know.” Except that Cisco did know. As soon as Barry started stopping criminals, he’d known. He’d watched all those cartoons, Mama badgering him to practice the violin instead until he’d faked an issue with his wrist tendons.  
He’d missed Dante’s question.

“What?”

“It—it doesn’t matter.” Dante aid after a second. “Thank you, though.”

“For what?”

“I know you. Noble. Honor. You only made those guns because of me. You could have told him no.”

“No,” Cisco shook his head, feeling a momentary annoyance that Snart had taken his bobby pins—as if he could do anything with two bobby pins—as his hair got in his face.

“You could have, but you wouldn’t.” Dante pressed. “Mom and Dad never saw that, you know? Your conviction, your—passion. Honor. They didn’t ever see that.”

“Dante, what are—?”

“You fought them at every turn to be who you are. I just went with what they wanted. I never fought for anything in my life.” Dante shook his head at himself and looked down, then shifted his leg to the side. There was a soft thud as Rita plopped on the carpet. “Shoo, You, go hide.”

“Dante, what are you—“ Cisco fought to keep his voice down. Dante kicked at the table leg, spindly and thin at the top, and yanked as hard as he could with his mostly-bound hands. The table leg gave way, and he gripped it like a club, charging Rory.

Rita watched from her corner as the Big Yelling man hit her human over the head (again!) and sent him crashing to the ground, and put caution to the wind, racing out from cover to try to help. She nosed Dante, and saw that he was still breathing, then let out a demonic shriek. Sco got in the way and she skidded to avoid crashing into him, crashing into a chair. _(FRIEDA GERORGIA HALP NOW PLEASE HALP)_ The constant cry for help she’d focused on as hard as she could for hours reached a new level of desperation as the Big Yelling man punched Sco. He didn’t even notice when she swiped a paw at him, her kitten claws digging into his smelly pants.

  
“Mick, stop, we need them. Mick, calm down.”

Cisco took Rory’s pause at Cold’s voice as a chance to roll away and try to get to his feet. He hadn’t known Snart and his creepy sister were back. _Need. He still needs us, for what? A trap for Barry, like what they did with Caitlin?_ His mind was racing, his eyes darted around. He couldn’t see Rory or Lisa, Dante was on the ground a few feet away. By the way his shirt shifted, Cisco thought Rita must be over with him.

Snart still had the cold gun, though he wasn’t pointing it at anyone. _Yet_ , thought Cisco darkly.

“I like you, Kid.”

Cisco scoffed. Captain Cold ignored him.

“You’re smart, pulled yourself up from humble beginnings…you seem like a good brother. So. You answer one question for me, I let your brother walk. How does that sound? I’ll even consider leaving him out of this game for good.”

 Sweat trickled down Cisco’s back. He’d gotten Dante into this mess by building that damn gun in the first place, if he could get his brother out… “What’s the question?”

“The Flash. Who is he?”  
“I…I don’t know. He always wears a mask.” Cisco couldn’t breathe.  
Without even looking, Cold pulled the trigger. There was a cry from Dante and a yowl from Rita, suddenly visible, her plumed tail frozen. Cisco dove, eyes glossy with shock at the sight of Dante’s hands turning mottled blue and purple, almost smoking.

“That’s first degree frostbite. With treatment, your brother and—that cat,” Snart looked momentarily nonplussed “will recover. If not, well. You built this. You know what will happen. So I’ll ask again. Nicely.” Snart moved close and pointed the gun again, this time at Dante’s head. “Who is the Flash?”

Cisco closed his eyes, dryheaving. Rita hissed and positioned herself over Dante’s hands as if trying to warm them herself. Dante whimpered, and Cisco thought he’d never hated himself more.

“One.” Snart said warningly. “Two…”

“Allen.” Cisco whispered, feeling deflated and tiny and powerless. “His name’s Barry Allen.”

“There, that wasn’t so hard.” Snart smirked, then shouted. “Lisa, Mick.”

Both returned, Mick more than a little sullenly.

“Yeah, Lenny?” Lisa asked, mock sweetly.

“Take him to the nearest hospital. Give him back his wallet and drop him off there. No detours.”

Lisa sighed. “Fine. C’mon, handsome.” She pulled Dante to his feet, and Rita hissed angrily.

“The cat too. You know how I feel.” Snart called after them.  
Cisco remained on the floor, numb. Barry. He’d _Told._ Barry’d never forgive him for that, for putting everyone he cared about in danger. For betraying that trust. If he’d had anything in his stomach, he’d have thrown up.  
Lisa returned in a hurry, holding out her phone. Snart took it and nodded, then held the screen in front of Cisco’s face. A picture of Dante and Rita entering the St. Francis Hospital. Cisco slumped over more. His family was safe, for now at least.

“Time to go.” Snart said after a second. He grabbed Cisco by the back of his shirt, and Cisco suddenly seemed to wake up, struggling as Snart pushed him into a nearby closet and locked the door. “Mick, you stay here. If Lisa and I are delayed more than ten minutes without calling—and only IF, Mick, then torch him.”  
Cisco’s blood went cold as he heard footsteps retreating and Mick chuckle.

 

* * *

 

  
_(This way!)_ Georgia called, racing down the street. Frieda was better at voices, but she could see pictures better, and Rita had very clearly showed them a big house, very fancy. They needed to find it, and find it now. The other cats followed her, Nyoom racing ahead like a lightning bolt and doubling back with cries of ( _Not down this street.)_

 Fuzzwhump wished she could run as fast as Nyoom, or grow big like Scrap and be faster that way. Scrap had needed convincing to leave the Soft One’s side, but had left. The humans would only get in the way, so they’d snuck out through the walls.

Scrap grew in size, and Fuzzwhump clung to her back, peering ahead.

 _(HERE FOUND IT THIS WAY)_ Nyoom screeched, and they doubled their speed, Spike and Peanut Butter latching on to Scrap as well. The big house Rita had shown Georgia and Georgia had shown the rest loomed above them, a few lights on.

 _(Hang on)_ Peanut Butter growled as Scrap charged through the door, not bothering to phase through as Peanut Butter helped the others to do, instead just smashing it to bits. The rest of the cats behind them followed in their wake.  
  
Fuzzwhump smelled Anger and Blood and Scared in the air, sour tangs in her nose that made her sneeze, but above it all she smelled Sco. There was a big man who looked at them and said something she didn’t understand, and then Scrap tackled him, and sat on him. She washed her tail.

 _(You still bite him)_ She informed the others. Spike had a better idea than just biting. The man continued yelling, but it was muffled.

 _(SCO!)_ Fuzzwhump yowled. _(SCO WHERE IS?)_ She’d let the others deal with the Yelling man who had hurt Sco, she just needed to find him. _(SCO?)_

Lucy stood in a doorway and Vanished, while Frieda concentrated on telling Rita things would be ok, hoping the message got through. Schmendrick batted at a large orange and metal thing on the ground and wrinkled his nose.

( _Smells like Ginger after Ginger goes on fire)_ the tom told everyone.

 _(Do not care. Care Sco.)_ Fuzz mewed, darting into the next room. There was a wooden door with a not-shiny circle, and the door shuddered the way doors did when kitties wanted in or out and had to try and bash them open _. (Sco?)_ Fuzzwhump mewed, because it smelled like Sco, it smelled like Sad and like Scared and like Sco.

“Fuzzwhump?!” It was Sco’s voice.

_(Yes, me, found you! Lucy!)_

Lucy popped into the room and looked at the door, then popped away again. A second later, she returned to the doorway she’d been in, this time sitting on Sco’s shoe. Fuzzwhump flew at him, climbing up his pants until he bent down to scoop her up with tied together hands. She pressed her head to his chest, purring with relief.

“Let’s go home,” Cisco whispered.

Fuzzwhump did not understand most People talk, but she knew that word.

_(Yes, Home)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes. Long. There’s still a tiny bit more in this story arc bit but it’ll fit into next chapter and this one’s getting long. Yay, the day is saved, no one is dead and the cats have earned every kitty treat in Kenna’s pet shop.  
> Please leave a comment, this chapter kicked my butt and I hope it was worth the wait.


	10. Chapter seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. Started a new job and it's been rough getting a schedule together. but here it is!
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to the memory of Rollo, my roommate’s family’s little calico kitty, who passed away recently. Rest easy in the summerlands, little one.

 

Barry was pretty sure he’d been in worse situations before. Still, running down the highway after Captain Cold and his sister with no Nyoom streaking alongside him, and still no clue as to where Cisco was or what Cold had done to get a new Cold gun and whatever sparkly toy his sister had, he sure couldn’t remember worse. Maybe something from before the cats, when he’d lost his speed fighting Farooq, except at least then he’d had an excuse for failing his friends so badly.  
  
Up ahead he could see the taillights of a truck, hardly visible and swerving as a couple motorcycles closed in.  Something bright and yellow blasted the trucks side and Barry was on it in less than a heartbeat, pulling Cold off his bike in one fluid motion and sending his gun skittering. He knew he should probably deal with the truck, but at the moment he couldn’t bring himself to care—they weren’t civilians, but members of that crime family, the Santinis, one that had landed Joe in the hospital for a week back when he was in college. They could take care of themselves, and with any luck they’d get caught for driving with knocked out taillights—most of that money was probably laundered.

Barry released his grip on Cold’s parka once they were far enough from the road that “Lisa” wouldn’t be able to get there in a hurry. Barry narrowed his eyes, glaring as Cold pulled back his hood.

“Hello, _Barry.”_

Barry felt as though he’d been shot in the gut with Snart’s gun, like his lungs were turning to ice. “What. Did. You. Do. To. Him?”  
Snart _smirked._ “He’s in one piece, for now. Though if I don’t make a very particular phone call in the next three minutes and fourteen seconds, well, that changes.”

Barry lunged forward, grabbing the older man’s parka by the collar. “Where is he?”

“Now, why would I tell you that?”

* * *

 

Lucy meowed as Cisco moved gingerly towards the door, awkward partly to avoid stepping on tails of his fluffy rescuers, and partly because he wasn’t exactly sure how much longer he could stand. He was hungry and tired and his face and ribs ached. At least he still had his shoes, even if he didn’t have a car or any clue where he was. Maybe he could hotwire whatever Rory had, but maybe he’d be better off just finding neighbors. Barry was about to walk right into a trap, and Snart still had his phone hidden somewhere. He had to warn Barry.  
Again Lucy mewed, twining around his legs as Fuzzwhump continued to purr and lick at his hands and still bound wrists, her fur fluffed with worry. As they crossed the threshold, meaning to find an exit as soon as possible, Cisco stumbled with a short cry—he wasn’t in the dimly lit office/dining room/whatever that he’d remembered , but a suddenly cramped, dark space. For a moment he couldn’t breath, sure that it had just been another waking dream, that he was still in the closet with Mick Rory and his gun outside, but then Fuzzwhump shifted , balanced in his arms, her soft, familiar weight soothing. She chirped her usual greeting noise, no panic or anger evident in it, and he reached out slowly, careful not to let her drop. The handle of the door turned easily, and now that he could breathe the air smelled different, not like carpets and wood polish and sweat, but cleaning sprays and linoleum and catnip.  
The bright light that spilled in was fluorescent and bright and familiar. Somehow, Lucy had done like her Narnian namesake and brought him home by way of a Star labs storage closet.

He stumbled again as Lucy vanished from between his legs and returned with more cats, all of them it seemed except for Scrap and Nyoom, but he was too busy to count them, half sprinting now to the cortex.

Caitlin and Doctor Wells were at the long desk that served as the comm station, their backs too him. Barry’s suit was gone. _I’m too late._ Caitlin heard his approach and whirled around as over the line, Snart said Barry’s name. Cisco’s stomach dropped.  
  
“What. Did. You. Do. To. Him?” Barry’s voice echoed from the computer, and Caitlin gave a muffled squeak.  
“I—I’m here,” Cisco panted. “I—“

“Oh, god, Cisco!” Caitlin was on her feet in seconds, seizing a first aid kit and pulling him into a tight hug while trying to guide him to a chair. Fuzzwhump protested being squished, and Caitlin let go, her face pale.

“How did you escape?” Wells asked, the slight frown lessening as Apricot leaped onto his lap.  
“I didn’t.”

“He let you go?” Wells asked as Snart’s voice came over loud and clear from the comms.

_“He’s in one piece, for now. Though if I don’t make a very particular phone call in the next three minutes and fourteen seconds, well, that changes.”_

“No,” Cisco said as Caitlin cut at the ropes around his wrists with a pair of far too small scissors. He reached for the switch at the station that would let Barry hear them. “Barry, don’t listen to him, I’m fine, the cats took out Rory.”

_“Cisco? Where are you?”_

“With the others. I’m sorry, I—“

 _“Don’t be.”_ The relief was clear in Barry’s voice. Cisco leaned back and let Caitlin finish cutting him free, his gut still roiling. Barry cut the com link off, but he’d be back soon, probably, and he’d probably never trust him again. Not that he should, hadn’t this proved all that?  
As if she could read his mind, Fuzzwhump mewed and pushed her head under his hand.

_(Sco no sad. Sco home. I protect.)_

Caitlin was trying to clean a cut under his eye—he wasn’t sure when he’d gotten it, but everything suddenly hurt a lot more.  The adrenalin had to have fully worn off by now, and it had been a long time since he’d last slept or eaten. Frieda seemed to realize this, darting off and returning with one of Barry’s calorie bars. Cisco looked startled, and took it without opening it.  
“Thanks, kitty.”  
“What happened?” Doctor Wells asked after a moment, wheeling closer. Fuzzwhump hissed and climbed Cisco’s shirt, clinging and trembling. Cisco pried her off his chest gently, cradling her. He didn’t speak, just scratched Fuzzwhump’s ears as other cats trickled into the room, arranging themselves around and on him. Frieda and Georgia were twin lumps over his feet, Faulkner over his left knee, Sue curled up on the desk next to him purring her heart out while Felix and Greebo draped themselves over the back of his neck and shoulders.  
“He knew Barry’s name.” Caitlin said quietly. “He had the cold gun. We checked, and it’s still in pieces in the store room. He made you make a new one?”

Cisco nodded miserably, his throat tight. Wells had been very clear in his warning about Cisco making another mistake, after the first time the gun had been stolen.  
There was a crackle of static, and Barry burst into the cortex, Nyoom on his heels, and Scrap close behind, back in tennis-ball size.

“Cisco! Thank god. How did you get away, what happened?” Barry was at his side in a flash, giving Felix an ear-rub without taking his eyes from the spreading bruise across Cisco’s eye and cheek.

“I think Scrap did her bear thing. I don’t know how the cats found me, but they did, and Lucy—it’s not just closets in the same room or building. She got me—us—all here. From—I don’t know. It was dark.” His face twisted. “I’m sorry, Barry. I—he had my brother. He said, he’d kill him, if I didn’t tell, and—If it had just been me, I never—“

“No.” Barry said it more vehemently than he meant, and Fuzzwhump took offense at the tone, glaring at him and lashing her tail. Barry softened his voice. “Don’t say that. It’s not your fault. You’re my friend.”

“But I told him who you were!” Cisco burst out, only the weight of kittens keeping him from leaping up.

Barry took a deep breath. “And I put you in that position. We had a—talk. He knows who I am, but he also knows that if he so much as comes near you guys, or my family, or your families, I don’t care who he tells. Pipeline might even be too good for him, if you ask me.” Barry shook his head. “Besides, he knows Barry Allen’s name. In case you haven’t noticed, the only friends and family of Barry Allen besides my dad are cops, related to cops, or already connected to the Flash.” He paused, and picked up Nyoom, who added her purr to the mix. With that soothing bassline, Cisco felt his heart slowing to normal, even if he still felt like throwing up. “Or under the Arrow’s protection, if Snart goes after Felicity, I’m pretty sure we’d hear about him getting shot full of arrows on the news.”  
“You aren’t mad?” Cisco whispered it, but everyone heard.  
“No.” Doctor Wells said firmly. “Snart may be more of a problem now, but we’ve faced him before. And, the way these metakitties—yes, I said it—are turning out, the problems may not be so dire.”

“If he’d given me the choice, at the casino,” Barry said, “to tell him myself and he’d let you go, I’d have done it. So don’t blame yourself for this.”

Caitlin nodded. “You’re family.”

Cisco blinked back tears, but nodded, finding himself in the midst of a group hug/kitten cuddle pile, with even Doctor Wells putting a hand on his arm, until Fuzzwhump bit it.

“She’s been freaking out all day. You’ve got a little lioness there.” Barry said.

“My champion.” Cisco meant it as a joke, but it was true. Fuzzwhump licked his face.

_(yes. Lioness. Bite the wheelman, bite the nasty smellbad man. Keep Sco safe.)_

 

* * *

 

Surveying his trashed apartment, Cisco sighed. “Fuzz, if you and the others hadn’t earned all the tuna and salmon and whatever else you want for life, you’d be in so much trouble.”  
His bookshelf had been completely knocked over, the hideous vase that his Tia Delores had insisted he take was in pieces on the floor, and papers were scattered everywhere. The lamp had plowed into the  chair, scuffing the floor, and his rack of nerfguns had been pulled from the wall, leaving several holes in the plaster.  
That was just the living room. How had one small kitten made this much damage in a kitten-proofed apartment?

“Fuzz, don’t give me that look.” Cisco flopped onto his bed, burying his face in a mostly intact pillow.

Fuzz ignored him kneeding her paws into his back before wriggling under his arm and purring like thunder.

 _(was worried. Was scare. Love Sco.)_ she mewed.

He couldn’t stay mad.  
Maybe _that_ was Fuzzwhump’s power, he thought as he stared to fall asleep, her soft fur against his cheek.

* * *

  
“This can’t be right.” Dante frowned at the paper a nurse had just handed him before leaving him with a very pretty doctor. “I don’t have insurance, and I know—you people charge an arm and a leg for ER services, and staying overnight.” He glanced at his bandaged hands. “Or two hands.”

The doctor quirked a smile. “Like the bill says, it’s covered.”

“Yeah, right. What is this?”

He’d only woken up a half hour before, it had been late when the woman had shoved him and a panicky Rita through the doors and bolted, and he hadn’t wanted to let go of the kitten, her tail all frozen and his hands all black. He remembered a nurse or medic taking the wallet that was balanced opposite Rita, for his ID, and a doctor looking at his hands, and not much else. Had he been sedated? According to the bill, yes, but the price, astronomically high, was still at $0.00 in the “payment owed.”  
The whole thing was very fishy. And Rita was gone.  
The doctor smiled again, the way she had as she explained how he was to take care of his hands.

“It’s covered. You were lucky, Mr. Ramon.”

“Dante.”

“You were lucky, Dante. Your cat may have saved your hands. As it is, you’ll need some physical therapy, but you should be fine. Your cat, too. She lost the last inch of her tail, but she’ll be ok. Address for the vet is on that paper, it’s just a halfblock down the street. And before you panic, that’s covered too. I think Carol’d have helped for free, not every vet can say she’s treated a superpowered cat.”

Dante nodded mechanically, then realized that this girl was not _fazed_ by invisible cat. The nurse seemed to read his mind.

“Stranger things have happened, and we’ve all been given some training for the weird stuff, in the last year and a half. Look, you’re pretty much set as soon as you can scrawl out the check out papers. We can set up some PT appointments a little later, but you got here pretty quick, so there doesn’t look like they’ll be any lasting issues.”

“I still don’t understand this whole “covered” thing,” Dante said, grumpy. He looked closer at the paper. “I don’t know any J.L. Gid—“

“The J.L. Gideon foundation’s a mystery, I’ll give you that. No one seems to know anything about it, and the money’s untraceable, but it’s real, and it’s a help. Money for anyone who comes in as a victim of any of the Flash’s enemies, any collateral damage, crossfires, for medical bills. One of my brothers’s in construction, says they get donations too.”

Dante frowned again. Good, it was the least the Flash could do, getting them into that mess. His eyes widened suddenly as he remembered, _Cisco._

The doctor continued. “And no matter what you tried to say last night about liquid nitrogen, I know that frostbite pattern. My other brother’s a cop, he’s faced that Snart guy. Probably be dead if not for STAR Labs and their tech.” she glanced at him. “You’re related to the kid who built those shields, aren’t you? Francisco Ramon?”

Dante nodded, trying to control his breathing.

“I thought so. Anyway, so I took the liberty of not believing your accident BS and filed it under the Gideon protocol. It’ll cover this, your cat’s tail surgery, any follow up stuff.”

“Thank you. But I need to go, now, my brother—“  
“He’s in trouble?”

Dante took a breath, then nodded.

“That kind of trouble?” She pointed at his hands.

Another nod.

“I’ll sign you out if you promise to go to the cops and not do anything stupid.”

Two cats raced in through the open door, accompanied by a few cries of alarm from down the hall, or rather, one cat and one bobbing bit of bandage.

_(Pianoman, is ok. Hurts but is ok. Missed you. You ok? You hurting?)_

“Hey, You.” Dante said to the invisible lump of kitty that was now sitting on his lap, mewing at him.  
Cisco was not far behind.

* * *

  
  
Iris stared at her screen, the word document cursor blinking. She had a story, all right, but now that it was on the page, details stood out. The Flash had interrupted a robbery/attack on a casino, saved a bunch of civilians, and let the guy—the same one who’d kidnapped Caitlin back in January—go.  
He’d also, according to the witnesses she’d tracked down, had an accomplice, a grey and white cat.  
No one had seen the cat before around two weeks ago, and the blurry security footage had shown a very familiar kitty.  
Flash Cat, as she’s posted on her blog, looked a lot like Barry’s new cat, Nyoom.  
Add to that, Flash had backed off after a conversation—her witness hadn’t heard exactly, but some kind of threat. The same day that the CCPD gotten a noise complaint from a Doreen Cantwell, who filed them fairly often, but this time more agitated, and another resident of the building had reported what sounded like murder next door. Iris had snooped, like any good, gumption filled Nancy Drew, and found that the apartment in question belonged to Barry’s friend, her friend, Cisco.  
Who had built the shields that had saved Eddie’s life from Snart back in January.

Who, according to the logs she’d looked at, had confiscated the weapon that Snart had clearly gotten back. The wheels in her mind turned.

Cisco. Caitlin. Flash Cat. Barry acting so strange, canceling their lunch date. _Not a date._ Nyoom at a crime scene. Barry always disappearing on her, or showing up out of nowhere.  
 She looked at Goldie. Goldie looked back.  
That was another thing. She didn’t know if Eddie’d figured it out, but Goldie and Bear were not normal. If she could accept a man turning to steel, she could accept cats that knew lies from truth, even when she herself didn’t, right?  
It made her head hurt, but she’d done some tests, simple ones, and there had been no co-incidence. There was no such thing as co-incidence, not here, not anymore, not when it came to her cats.  
Nyoom and Goldie and Bear had all been together, at Star Labs. And Barry’s boss, the CSI director, had called about a group meeting, asked if things were odd, so it wasn’t just her.  
If all those cats had powers….and Barry knew, he’d have to know, he wasn’t stupid, then…what?

Iris blinked tiredly and drank the rest of her coffee. She rubbed her temple, then laughed at herself.

“I’m being silly,” she told Goldie. “Mommy’s being silly. Barry’s not the Flash.”

“Meerrp.” Goldie meowed.  
Iris froze. She knew what that mew meant.

“Are you hungry?” she tried

“Meow.”

“I’m a turtle.”

“Meerrp.” _Ok, stay calm, Iris. Stay calm._

“Barry’s not the Flash.”

“Meerrp.” Goldie twitched her whiskers in what had to be a cat smile.

“Oh. Oh, God.” Iris leaned back in her chair, suddenly wishing she had more coffee. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“Meerp.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for this arc, next few entries will be interludes where we get back to the promised cracky adorable chaos. Still, I hope you enjoyed this version of episodes 15-16. Let me know? It would be swell of you :)


	11. Interlude: Wreaking Havoc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No kittens were harmed in the making of this interlude.

 

  
Barry woke to a sudden inability to breathe as Nyoom pressed her side against his face. He reached up to nudge her aside and glanced at the clock.

“Nyoom, it’s Five AM.”

“Mrrow.” _(Food.)_ She mewed.

“No.” Barry leant back into his pillows. It was his one day off, and he wanted sleep.

“Mrrow.” _(Food.)_ She repeated, patting at his face.

“Go pester Joe.”

“Mrrow!” Nyoom pawed away the covers before Barry could get a good grip on them. Barry groaned.

“If I feed you, will you shush?”

“Mrrow.”

Barry got up. “I swear to God, cat, if there is food in that bowl….” It was the work of a second to dash down the stairs, even with Joe’s “60 miles an hour in the house, No I’m serious” speed limit. Nyoom’s bowl was already full; the hourly mechanical release Cisco had designed was working fine.  
Barry closed his eyes. “Nyoom. Why?”  
She swished her tail over his bare foot and peered up at him with wide eyes, still kitten blue against her white and grey face.  Barry sighed, and poured himself an industrial sized bowl of cereal, which Nyoom ate most of in the end. Then Barry scooped her up in one arm and went back to the blessed warmth and comfort of his bed, Nyoom curled up on his back, between his shoulderblades.  
  
Hardly three hours later he got a call that one of the other techs had gotten sick and would he please, please, please come in, yes they knew it was his day off but they were already short staffed, it would only be for a couple hours and would count as overtime so he’d get time-and-a-half for it. Barry looked at Nyoom, and agreed. It wasn’t like he’d get any more sleep, and maybe if she got tired out playing with Bear or Raoul, his doofusy cat would actually sit still for longer than ten minutes that night.  
Somehow, he doubted that, but work was work, and getting into Sava and Singh’s good graces a bit more couldn’t hurt.  
  
He learned exactly why Lorelei Sava was so stressed out roughly thirty-five seconds within entering her office to drop off some paperwork, Nyoom occupied upstairs with a large box and a half dozen rubber spiders left over from the Great April Fools Incident of 2014, something he was not sorry about missing during the coma. His supervisor  was on the phone, arguing more than a little loudly—or, strangely, pleading.

“I know it’s last minute, but Kelly, I am desperate. There’ll be pizza. Lots of pizza, plus double the going rate for—yes, I know it’s—I work for a police station, yes, I do in fact know how many parties there are tonight because it’s going to—“ She stopped and frowned. “She hung up. Rude. Why on earth would Jen recommend her in the first place I don’t even know.” She crossed off what looked like the last name on a list and glanced up. “Oh, Allen, yes, just put it in the basket and you can…” she trailed off.

“Um.” Barry looked around nervously, wondering what exactly was going on.

“What are you doing tonight?” Sava asked abrubtly.

“Um. I…don’t know?” He’d been planning on being on call as Flash, probably circling the universities since it was a major football game day or something and there were going to be a lot of parties that were bound to get violent at some point. “Nothing?” It seemed like a safer answer than “my superhero side-job”. It was not.

“Oh thank goodness. I need your help. I know you’re good with kids, all the little fieldtrips, and you’re responsible, and I can certainly trust you more than...” she waved a hand at the list “ second hand recommendations.”

“Um.”

She continued as if she hadn’t heard. “My brother called me an hour ago to tell me he and his wife are going on a weekend getaway and I’m the lucky winner of babysitter. It would have been _fine_ ,” she said the word in a way that Barry knew meant the opposite, “except that I have a meeting with a lawyer tonight. I’ve got to testify in the Hunter case, and it’s going to take hours. And I cannot find a sitter.”

“Uh…” Barry tried to think of a way out, but she was looking at him so desperately.

“There’s 25$ an hour and a couple pizzas in it for you.” Sava offered. “And first dibs on holidays off. Yes, I am resorting to bribery. Please.”

Barry considered. If there was a disaster and Flash was needed, he could probably convince the kids to play hide and seek, which would give him a couple minutes.

“How old are they?” he relented.

“Six and a half. Amy and Evan. Twins. Not allergic to cats, medications, or anything except cleaning their rooms. You know where I live, be there at seven.”  
Barry was pretty sure he was going to regret this.  


* * *

 

The rest of the half shift went fine—Sava had also managed to call in one of the other techs to take the rest of the day, so Barry zipped over to STAR Labs to eat, Nyoom racing along next to him down deserted sidestreets and back alleys.  Nyoom joined her kitten siblings, racing around the cortex for a bit before descending to the Pipeline with Peanut Butter.

“You know, Shawna’s been…good.” Caitlin said, rubbing Scrap’s ears. “Less angry. Not that I blame her, exactly.  Peanut’s been good for her, and…” she paused, not sure what to say. Cisco nodded.

“She technically didn’t hurt anyone,” he said. “I mean, yeah, she took that money. And broke her boyfriend out of jail. Very illegal. But…I mean, she’s not…dangerous, exactly, I mean, not like Nimbus the supposed to be dead murderer.”

“We were supposed to be trying to rehabilitate them. The ones that aren’t set on trying to murder Joe, at least,” Barry sighed. “But if we let her go, what’s to stop her from, I dunno, robbing another bank, or smashing up a club and bailing?”

“I looked into the money thing,” Cisco said, prying Fuzzwhump off of his lap and settling her on his shoulder so he could hop off the table where he’d been sitting and pull up something on the computer. “The boyfriend owed money. They took enough to cover it and nothing else. That truck had four times as much as they took, easy. And with him gone... “

“We know how to stop her now.” Caitlin said. “And maybe we could…I don’t know. The cats can always find each other, right? I mean, I’m not saying ‘bribe the metahuman with a cat’ but…”

“Let’s talk to Doctor Wells about it. But yeah.” Cisco winced. “We’ve kinda dropped the ball.”

At the word ‘ball’ Felix lifted his head from where he had been snoozing on an oversized catbed.  
“Soon, though,” Barry said. “Oh, right, I just wanted to give you guys a heads up that I’m going to be,” he lowered his voice a little. “Babysitting tonight. For Director Sava’s niece and nephew. So nothing the police can’t handle perfectly well on their own, ok?” he said the last to Cisco.

“One of these days, it’s going to be a little old lady,” he snarked back.

“Yeah, yeah,” Barry sighed, digging through a desk drawer of another of Cisco’s calorie bars, this one labeled “S’moreos.” “What is this?”

“You complained about the taste, I’m just trying to make some that aren’t terrible. Gives me something to do, though I think Fuzz is worried I’ll burn down the kitchen. She literally won’t leave me alone any more.”

“Well, I don’t blame her,” Caitlin said, shaking her hair back. “You almost died. You see how Scrap gets when I say anything about Eiling?” As if on cue, Scrap leaped from Caitlin’s arms and grew larger in the blink of an eye. None of the other cats seemed terribly worried.

“Scrap, it’s fine, Mom’s making a point.” Caitlin reassured the kitten. Scrap shrank again.

“No, but look.” Cisco untangled Fuzz’s claws from his shirt and held er out to Barry. The minute Barry had her, the kitten took on that characteristics of a fish—squirming and slipping from Barry’s hold. Cisco took five steps, enough to get him beyond the doorway and just around the corner, his hand still visible. Fuzzwhump shrieked, bit Barry, and raced after him. _(SCO SCO SCO SCO)  
_ “see?” Cisco asked, coming back in. “I mean, it’s nice to have her around. I’ve been—well, she’s just really good at helping me focus and calm down if I have a, a bad dream, or something. But it’s to the point where I had to make a nest for her in the shower caddy.”

“Ok, that might be a bit extreme.” Caitlin sighed. “Maybe Faulkner can understand us well enough to get a message across to her?”

“Maybe.” Cisco rubbed his nose against Fuzzwhump’s cheek. “I’m sorry, I’m not gonna do that again, you overprotective ball of fluff.”

( _Protect Sco. Sco safe. Not let wheel man hurt.)_ Fuzzwhump squeaked.

Scrap mewed _(Fuzz, Wheelman not kill Sco. Know this. Sco home._ _Sco safe. )  
(Sco still maybe need-)_ Fuzzwhump started, but Frieda poked her head in through the doorway

_(Is. Napping. Let humans be loud, not know better. But you shush.)_

Fuzzwhump gave a rippling ‘mrt’ of annoyance and Cisco settled her back on his lap, pulling a string from his drawer and dangling it for her. “Behold, the fierce and mighty tigress.”

The effort to lighten the mood worked a little, but Barry was still grateful when his phone rang.

“Hey, Iris,” he said after checking the Caller ID.

“Hi, Barry. Listen, can you do me a favor?”

“Anything,” he agreed instantly, then winced. “Unless it’s something for tonight, I kinda have a th—“

“Oh, no, no. I was just—well, I think I left my _flash_ drive at dad’s the other night, and I need it for work. Could you _dash_ it over?”

Barry froze. He could have sworn that she’d emphasized ‘flash’ and ‘dash’ but…that didn’t mean anything, he was sure.

“Uh…yeah, I can do that. Might take me a bit, but sure. Where did you leave it?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get it here in no time, things move so fast around here. It should be on the counter?”

“I’ll check.” Barry put down the phone, raced back to Joe’s, and found the drive. “Got it.”

“Oh, great. Yeah, if you could _run_ it by, that’d be great.”

“Sure,” Barry felt unease growing. There had definitely been unneeded emphasis on ‘run.’  
“You’re a lifesaver.” Iris said as she hung up. Barry looked at the flashdrive, at the others who seemed vaguely concerned, and at his sneakers, which had started to smoke. Of course.

* * *

 

Kenna Page looked at her cat, then back at the email she’d gotten from one Lorelei Sava, Director of CSI at CCPD. An invitation for the next Monday evening to meet with others who had adopted kittens in the last year with “abnormal abilities.” She snorted. Eevee was a very smart floofball, and more cuddly than many cats, but hardly abnormal.   
Then again, there had been that post on the Flash blog people kept talking about, about the Flash’s new sidekick, a cat-shaped blur in the photo.  
Maybe STAR Labs was experimenting on kittens, though…no, they’d seemed like nice people. She couldn’t think that anyone who seemed as affectionate with the cats as Ramon or Snow could be condoning animal cruelty or testing, and the Flash would have put a stop to it, would have investigated his new pal’s abilities or something.

Right?

“Should we go?” Kenna asked Eevee, who was chewing on her shoelace. “Maybe.”

Eevee purred, fluffing out her fur.

“But if they try to take you away, I’ll hurt them. Well. I’ll run away as fast as I can, and we can go live in the mountains somewhere.”

More purring.

“Well, maybe not the mountains. But we’ll figure something out. If it’s a trap or something.”

More purring. Eevee gave up on the mangled shoelace and leaped onto the table.

“Down, Eevee.”

Eevee did not jump down, but rather walked across the keyboard and helped herself to the remains of Kenna’s lunch.  


* * *

 

Barry arrived at Sava’s house at quarter to seven, his backpack stuffed with his suit—just in case—and a couple of books pulled from the box in his closet, left over from his childhood. Nyoom had followed him, apparently taking notes from Scrap and Fuzz and getting in on the stalking/protecting gig. She’d hissed at no fewer than twelve cars on the run over.  


Sava opened the door, looking harried but professional. “Thank you, again. Kids!”

Two kids raced in from a back room, Havoc clinging to the girl’s shoulders. “Are you our sitter?” the girl asked.

“Boy sitters?” asked the boy.

“Yes, he’s your sitter, and don’t be sexist, Evan.”

“Surprised,” he corrected his aunt. “There’re girl cops, there can be boy sitters. ‘m not stupid.”

Barry was pretty sure he heard the girl—Amy—mutter an “are too.”  
“Barry, these are the niblings, Amy and Evan. Niblings, this is Barry Allen. You behave. You listen to him. He tells you not to do something, you don’t do it. Evan, remember that the roof is still off limits. Amy, the same goes for you.” She looked at Barry.

“They’ve mostly eaten, but there’s still an unholy amount of pizza left—you take home whatever’s left—and bedtime’s no later than 8:30 no matter what they tell you. There’s some instructions on—“ she patted her pockets and pulled out a folded paper, “here, and my cellphone, and the number of where I’ll be. Should be back no later than 10, but it’s Cadwell and you know how he gets.”   
Barry did know, Cadwell was one of the top lawyers in the city, and also one of the most difficult to work with.   
Amy and Evan ran off again, Nyoom following daintily after Havoc meowed a welcome.  
“Oh, you brought your cat. It’s fine, I’ve got a new allergy prescription, but if she sheds …try to clean it up. Let me see, what else—that should cover it. The kids might give you some trouble, but they’re generally pretty good if you don’t let them walk all over you. No tv, they used their screen time for the day, but there’s some laser tag stuff in the hall closet. Feel free to go wild, they won’t try to kill each other if they gang up on you.”

“Uh, ok. Sounds great.” Barry said, growing slightly more nervous. Then he blinked. He handled criminals with superpowers every other week. This couldn’t be that much harder.  


* * *

  
Barry was wrong.  
No sooner than the kids screeched “Bye Auntie Lori!” than Evan had snatched at Amy’s newly acquired slice of pizza, because he “wanted that one” and Barry found himself longing for the chaos of 27 kittens, or maybe a fight with Mark Mardon.  
There was a crash, and Barry upgraded the thought to _both_ Mardon brothers. That, he knew how to deal with.

“Hey, don’t slam the—“ Barry started as a door slammed, bouncing open again on Havoc’s paw. The kitten didn’t seem to notice.  
“Kids, hey, maybe don’t…” he tried, following the sounds of chaos until he found them in the living room, pillows in hand. Barry glanced at the paper he still held. “Make your own authority.” Well, that he could try.

“Hey, put those down. You don’t want to break a window.”

“I do.” Amy said sweetly, throwing the cushion at her brother. It knocked him over, but he got back up and charged.  
Barry caught him. “Nah, you really don’t. Windows cost like, so much of your allowance.” He picked up the fallen pillow, Evan still slung over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Barry dumped him on the couch.  
“But lucky for you, I know a thing or two about pillow fights and how not to break windows.”

“You’re not gonna tell us to stop fighting?” Evan asked. Barry shrugged.

“Would that work?”

“Nope,” they said in unison

“Then no, I’m not. But we only have an hour and a half til bed time, so if we wanna have a pillow war, we gotta do it right.”

They eyed him suspiciously. “You’re not gonna tell us we need to go to bed right now? So you can watch TV?” Amy wanted to know. “That’s what the sitters do a lot.”

“Nah,” Barry said. “How about we play with your Aunt’s laser tag stuff instead? We can use the pillows for shields instead of as projectiles. That way we won’t break windows. Or pillows.”

““What’s a projectile?” Amy asked.

“Thing you throw.”

“Cool. Ok.”

“Pillows can’t break.” Evan said, but he let go of his pillow.

 “That’s what I thought, too. C’mon, we’ll do teams. Think both of you can beat me?”

 Barry set up the vests and lightweight Star Trek style guns, then thought back to the various ways babysitters had kept him and Iris from destroying whichever house or each other when they’d been five, six, seven. Give them a common enemy figure without being an actual enemy, because children could be vindictive.   
“Ok, how’s this. You guys are guarding a super secret treasure. I need to find it and bring it back to base,” he pointed at the couch “without you getting me.”  
“Hah, you can’t do that, there’s two of us.” Amy gave Evan a high five.

“Well, I’ll have to just try, then. Pick a treasure and we’ll hide it—just not on the roof, or outside.” Barry remembered the incident with Havoc in the Herb Garden. “or down any drains.”

Evan whispered something to Amy, who nodded.

“Ok. So, we’re super cops, and you’re a cat burglar.” She said, as if that explained it.

“What am I going to have to find?” Barry asked, playing along. “Treasure? Paintings? We can use—“

“Havoc.” Evan pointed at the cat. “ You’re a cat burglar--”

“--so you steal cats!” Amy finished. “Except, Aunty Lori said, you gave her him, so you’re not really stealing.”  
“OK, you guys get the lights, and I’ll give you a headstart.”

* * *

 

They played two rounds as the clock reached 8:00, stopping for pizza breaks. Barry lost the first round, half by virtue of unfamiliarity with the house and the tag-team, half because he thought using his speed to beat small children at a game would be  a scumbag move, but won the second time with some lucky shots and Havoc’s co-operation. The kids had groaned when he told them this would be the last round, but agreed.  
  
It was dark as he leaned around a corner, looking for the glint of Havoc’s eyes, or the kids’s reflective vests. Then Barry heard a noise from the living room like glass shattering, and went to investigate with a sigh. This was the end of the game, there was no way he was going to let anyone run around in the dark with broken glass… though he didn’t hear the panicked shrieks of children who just broke something. He’d just made it into the room, far too dimly lit, and noticed that the sliding glass door had been smashed when a hand holding a wet rag was clamped over his face.   
  
Barry’s mind raced, whatever drug it was not even denting his metabolism, struggling. He wondered for a heartbeat if he was the intended target, but that hardly made any sense. He needed to get the kids, and get out. From upstairs, he heard a shriek. He let himself go limp, and as he’d hoped, whoever it was let him fall, leaving him there and heading towards the stairs. Barry cursed mentally, dared to wait until he couldn’t see the shadow-on-darkness that was his attacker, and bolted for the front room and his costume, indoor speed limits discarded without thought.

  
There were three masked intruders, what looked like two men and a woman, holding what Havoc knew were guns. Guns made people hurt, or dead. His human did not like guns, and these were bad people who were scaring his human’s littermate’s kits. Havoc sat beside the girl’s shoe, hissing and shrieking for the Nyooman to hurry up and make the bad people go away.  
The kits were radiating Sad-Scared, and the Bad People were speaking very softly and very meanly. Havoc judged the distance, and leaped at the biggest one’s face, he hit him aside and Havoc went sprawling.  
Amy screamed, and another person came to the door, wearing the same dark clothes and mask. Evan and Amy clung to each other, crouching and crying.  
Then, suddenly, the hall outside the room was filled with lighting. One of the intruders still had a gun pointed at the children, and pulled the trigger.

 

 Before Barry could disrupt his aim or get in the way, Havoc was leaping again and thudding to the ground in a grey, fluffy lump.  
Amy and Evan screeched again, but Barry and Nyoom ran, the cat jarring guns from hands and sending them skittering as Barry knocked each of them out with a harsher blow than was strictly needful. He didn’t think anyone would blame him, they’d pointed guns at kids. A cop’s kids, at that, or at least a CSI’s niece and nephew. Nyoom returned with bedsheets trailing after her, which Barry used to bind them before pausing to catch his breath.  
Barry looked at his charges, both still crying. He knelt so he was at eye level with them.  
 “Are you ok?” he asked, as gently as he could. Slowly they nodded. Barry glanced around for Havoc, not wanting to see the kitten’s body.  
Havoc licked one paw, and batted at a spent bullet that was lying on the floor. Barry shook his head in shock. It stood to reason, if a lawnmower and garbage disposal couldn’t kill the cat, what was a bullet going to do?  
“You’re the Flash.” Evan whispered.   
“I am,” Barry said, very, very glad for the cowl that hid most of his face. “I’m glad you’re ok, but I need to go take these very bad people to the police.”

“Wait!” Amy said, tugging on his arm like a much younger child. “Did you save our sitter? We like him.”

“He’s fine,” Barry promised, touched. “It’s going to be ok.”

 

Barry dumped the unconscious criminals, still bound with bedsheets, on the police department steps, then raced back to the house and changed as quickly as he could, glad for all the times he’d had to practice.

“Amy? Evan?” He called, flipping on every light in the house. They kids half tackled him running down the stairs.

“You guys ok?” he asked, still worried. They might have only been trying to be brave for a hero, after all.

“The Flash saved us, he got them, bam-pow,” Amy said, eyes huge. “And Havoc got shot but he walked it off.”

“Are you ok? We thought maybe you got dead.” Evan informed him. “’M glad you’re not.”

Barry returned the hugs, then extracted himself, ushering Havoc and Nyoom into the embrace instead.  
“I’m going to call the police. And your Auntie.” Barry said.

“Do we still hafta go to bed?” Amy pointed at the clock. 8:37. Barry shook his head.

“I don’t think so. Here, while I call let’s get you guys some hot chocolate.”  


  
The police arrived in minutes, and Sava with them—she’d flagged down a passing patrol car, and pulled the kids into a frantic hug as soon as she was in the door. Barry met her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “They got me from behind, I couldn’t do anything, I--“

“Auntie Lori, the Flash saved us, and his cat, and, and Havoc.” Evan interrupted.

“One of them was gonna shoot me.” Amy said. “But Havoc got in the way. Did you know, Havoc’s a magic cat?”

“I did, Amy-otter.” Sava nodded. “You’re going to need to tell the police officer what happened, ok?”  
While Amy and Evan told the young policewoman what they’d seen, Sava addressed Barry again. “You stayed calm. You helped them stay calm after…after. And you gave me the magic cat that took a bullet for my niblings. That’s more than nothing.”

“Niblings?”  
“Like siblings, but for niece and nephew,” Sava said. After you give your statement, you can go. My meeting is very firmly delayed.”

Before Barry left, the kids gave him each another hug. “We want you to always be our sitter.” Evan told him earnestly.

“Always and always.” Amy added on.  


* * *

 

“Allen.” Barry looked up from his paperwork with a jolt to see Sava standing in his office doorway. “You didn’t take the pizza home.” She walked in. “I put it in the breakroom fridge with a note for you, and a threat if anyone else takes it.” She handed him a cup of coffee and a bill, Barry took both and blinked.

“What?”

“I forgot to pay you for last night.”

Barry looked at the crisp 100$ bill. “Um, I was only there for an hour and –“

“And you earned every penny of that, the pizza, and the coffee.” Sava sighed. “It was connected to Hunter case. Jackass got out on bail yesterday, decided to take the kids to get me to recant and screw over the whole trial. Thank God for the Flash.”

Barry nodded, feeling a mixture of unease and pride. “I’d say he earned this more than…” he trailed off, noticing familiar handwriting on the side of the paper cup, a lightning bolt and “the kids told me.”

Barry gulped. “Um.”

“Look, Allen. Barry. I’m not going to forget what you did for my family.” She turned to leave.

“I really didn’t, it was all the Flash,” Barry tried.

“I know.” Sava called over her shoulder.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was long, but fun. I’ve been plotting the thing with Havoc, and the niblings for ages. And Iris’s passive aggressive puns/wordplay.   
> I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did, please leave a comment!


	12. Business as usual

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo, so, another interlude and then we'll be getting into some episode stuff again! fun times, I hope. I am getting my job schedule figured out still, and I have a lot of stuff to work on right now, so this story may drop to every other week (unless there is a major cliffhanger) though I'll try to avoid that. Best thing to do is keep an eye on my tumblr, hedgiwithapen, or my profile here, because if there will be a delay of more than 2 weeks, I'll make a note of it.)

  
  
Things were as tense as they could be at STAR Labs, given the presence of kitties. Everyone seemed more wary, nervous, but Barry guessed that was the way of things. Something D. Wells had said the other night, about the “timeline” being intact didn’t sit right with him. How could anyone know that a timeline was “intact? Maybe he’d meant that some larger, world shattering catastrophe hadn’t occurred to replace the tidal wave, but somehow, that didn’t seem quite right. Cisco and Caitlin were both a little more skittish as well, but Barry was willing to chalk that—and some of his own anxiety—up to knowing that Snart was still out there, and knew who all of them were. Even with their deal, Barry couldn’t help but wonder what would happen the next time Cold’s gun broke, or he got bored.  
  
Nyoom zipped around the cortex, sending papers flying, and Barry raced to catch them before they scattered.

“We really need to invest in paperweights,” Caitlin sighed, putting down her coffee mug.  
“We have paperweights!” Cisco pointed out. “Felix, Santiago, Apricot, Spike….”

Caitlin grumbled. “If I find holes in my paperwork one more time…” she couldn’t finish the sentence, Spike was a sweetheart, even if he did get a bit prickly at times. Scrap mewed, venturing out of Caitlin’s pockets to sniff at the coffee and sneeze. “No, not for you.” Caitlin said firmly. “You already get most of my breakfast, I need my coffee.”  
“She only gets most of your breakfast?” Barry asked, watching Nyoom run head-long into a chair, sit back, and shake her head in confusion before leaping onto it. “Nyoom gets all of mine sometimes. And Joe’s.”  
“Bet he hates that,” Cisco said, looking up from his new phone.

“Yeah,” Barry sighed. “She’s getting better at understanding, I think, aren’t you, you goof?” Nyoom didn’t dignify that with a response.  
“Fuzz learned what “get off my face” means,” Cisco said with a shrug. “Doesn’t mean she listens. I swear, she keeps checking to make sure I’m still alive. And people say cats don’t care.” He said this last to Fuzzwhump, nestled in his shirt pocket, faintly snoring. He rubbed the darker grey lines under her closed eye, and the snoring switched to purring.  
“I think it’s safe to say that “people” tend to be wrong about many things.” Dr. Wells agreed, whirring in on his chair. Apricot looked up from her next of documents, but decided she was too comfortable to move.

Cisco continued scratching Fuzzwhump’s ears and chin, but at the sound of Well’s voice she’d woken, her tiny heart racing. Cisco still didn’t know what to make of his little kitten’s sudden dislike of the man. He wondered if her power meant she could see the dreams he kept having.  
He felt bad. It was hard enough that he kept having them, he didn’t want her to, as well. They were just—dreams, anyway. Unless maybe they were visions, and she was giving them to him, but the thought was laughable.  
“I think I’m gonna go,” he said after a moment of trying to calm her. “I need to upload some of the videos I took. Make these cats internet famous.”

“Cisco, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Caitlin asked, glancing at Spike, happily rolling with several forms stuck to his newest spines.

“Relax, I only post the ones that could be any cat. Like Nyoom running into the chair, or Frieda and Georgia doing the mirror thing. Or I add in obvious edits to make it look like I’m trying to hide that the cats aren’t actually magical, but well enough that the account I made for Metakitties has a couple dozen followers. Subscribers.”

“You called the account Metakitties?” Barry blinked. Cisco shrugged again, and Fuzzwhump disapproved of the movement, her eyes still fixed around the area of Well’s throat.

Cisco shushed her, and made his rather hasty retreat, promising catnip mice and a trip to the fishmarket.  
There was an awkward not-quite-silence because cats, which finally Caitlin broke pointing at something on her tablet.

“These are actually really funny. Even if I didn’t know them, I’d want to adopt all of them.”  
Barry sped over. It was a 6 second clip of Cisco narrating as the kittens spilled out of an overturned box, with Lord of the Rings music in the background, and set to attacking his untied shoelaces.  
~~  
There was nothing on the scanner, and Sava had given Barry the day (and every major holiday for the rest of the year, he noticed) off, so they watched a few more videos before his phone rang.

“Heeeey, Iris, what is it?” Barry really hoped he sounded casual. Caitlin gave him and his failed attempt an exasperated glance.

“I hate to ask because it’s your day off and all, but do you think you could give me a hand with my computer?”

Barry blinked. “Uh, I mean, I’m not the greatest but—“

“No, I’m sure you can figure it out, I just can’t seem to. It keeps telling me to install something, but I have and it still won’t work.”

“What is it, it might be a virus or—“

“No, it’s nothing bad, it’s just _flash.”_

Barry blanched, but shook his head. It was really probably nothing.

“Yeah, uh, I’ll be right over.”

And he was gone.  
Caitlin sighed, and went back to her current project, which was an enhanced allergy medication for pet dander. Her promising career didn’t have to be over, even if the lab wasn’t getting grants anymore. It felt good to be doing something to help to world.

* * *

  
  
Cisco had become rather good friends in the last two weeks with Sage Jones, who owned a fish shop down by the harbor, and gave him a decent discount because “that cat is a-freaking-dorable” and in the fashion of grandmothers everywhere (though they were hardly older than Joe, Cisco guessed) “You need to eat more.”  
So he made his way down, locking his bike near the pier, following the smell of the salt air, and nodding to people who gaped at the sight of Fuzzwhump’s perch on his shoulder. A few kids asked if they could pet her, and the tabby graciously allowed it, lapping up the attention but not shifting from her position.

Sage waved from behind the counter, and started wrapping up Cisco’s usual with the ease of long practice.  
“How’s little Fluffball today?”

“Fuzzwhump,” Cisco corrected, aware that they were teasing. “She’s good. Hungry.”

“Well, she’s a kitten. When are they not?” Sage joked, handing over the wrapped packet. “Make sure you eat some of that, too. You look like you could use it.”  
The package felt heavier than normal, and the price was suspiciously lower than it should have been, but Cisco knew better than to argue, and biked home, Fuzzwhump sniffing and purring at their dinner.

* * *

  
Lorelei Sava looked around the community center’s meeting room and smiled. It seemed that the notice she’d asked Detective West’s daughter to put on her blog had been somewhat of a success, as had the emails. In addition to herself and Miss West, several others had shown up, most with their cats in carriers, though there were exceptions. The young man with bandaged hands, who had introduced himself to her as Dante Ramon and started flirting with Iris, and then every other young woman in the room, had his cat in his lap. The greyish kitten was wearing a garish collar that somehow combined bright orange and lime green tigerstripes with cutesy pink rhinestones, as well as a white bandage around the end of her stubby tail. One of the beat cops from CCPD, Officer Whitesmen, also had her cat out and free, though hers was floating several feet off the ground with a harness looped around the arm of the woman’s chair. And of course, Havoc had balked at the idea of a carry case, and was currently sniffing at Iris’s cat’s face.  
A few others trickled in, including a large, broad man in a leather jacket. His kitten looked like an oversized cottonball with fluffy white fur, amber eyes, and, Sava noticed in amazement, a set of stubby, white, fluffy wings.  
Well, that was certainly new.  
  
The meeting went better than she’d thought, though it was pushing the limit of her allergy meds. Iris took some notes, the man with Catwings—Timothy, his name was—explained he’d found her on the side of the road three months ago, and a college student admitted that she’d found her own “metakitty,” a solid brown cat, at Christmas, taken him inside, bribed her roommates into saying nothing, and discovered he could make the can opener move without touching it.

“Or thumbs,” Treva said. “ So that’s what what my roommates are calling him. His real name Is Professor Chuck Excelsior."  
  
Kenna giggled a little at the name, getting the reference.

It was clear that most of the cats did have powers or abilities, but Sava wasn’t quite certain what to make of Kenna Page’s Eevee, which Kenna insisted was ordinary, or t library worker’s Tuxedo cat creatively named Tux.

“Watch,” the woman said. “Tux, kitty, can you say, ‘dinner’?”

“Dinner,” Tux meowed.

Everyone turned to stare. His human shrugged. “It’s mostly mimicry. Like a parrot. I think he might understand some things, but he can’t hold a conversation or anything. He only ever repeats things.”

“Huh.” Iris jotted something on her notepad.

“Huh.” Tux yowled, as sarcastically as a cat could.  
They chatted for a few more minutes, Sava telling the “outsiders” about STAR labs and suggesting them rather than normal vets, given the circumstances. She was a little disappointed that Captain Singh and his fiancé hadn’t shown up, but Singh had made it clear that the only thing magical about his cat was Raoul’s ability to eat anything left unattended for more than 15 seconds.  
  
Meanwhile, then kittens and cats played.  Freed from their carriers and harnesses by Havoc and Thumbs, they introduced themselves each other, Rita bumping noses with the kittens she had called family first.

 _(Tail?)_ Havoc asked, curious.

 _(Got froze.)_ Rita responded. _(Bad man did it.)_

 _(Bad people tried hurt my human’s littermate’s kits.)_ Havoc told her. _(But am ok. Glad you ok.)  
(How are others?)_ Goldie asked.

 _(Think fine.)_ Rita said. _(been with Pianoman, not Sco.)_

 _(Are fine)_ Koshek confirmed, floating over. Catwings seemed to take his hovering as a personal challenge, trying to flutter higher. ( _Fuzz say, saw Wheelman kill Sco, but wrong.)_

Goldie mewed automatically and sat heavily. Iris looked over at the clowder, suddenly concerned.

 _(Goldie? What is?)_ Havoc asked.

_(Is true. Fuzz say true.)_

_(Mousescat.)_ Koshek hissed. _(true? Can no true.)_

Goldie leveled her clear, regal gaze at him. ( _Am no lie. Wheelman…kill Sco.)_ She paused, but no meow came to signify a lie.

( _I tell.)_ Rita said, lashing her bob of tail _. (Sco is good people.)_

 _(yes)_ Eevee agreed, batting at Koshek’s twitching tail, nearly as fluffy as her own.

 _(Who Wheelman?)_ Thumbs asked

 _(Who Sco?)_ Catwings wanted to know

 _(Want play)_ Tux meowed emphatically.  
A game of catch-my-tail and knock-over-the-chair followed, interrupted after fifteen minutes by Kenna’s sudden shout.

“Eevee, what are you _doing up there?!”_  
Eevee was hovering around the ceiling, while Koshek mewed pitifully from the ground _. (Give back! Give_ back!)

“What was that about no powers?” Tux’s human, Kim, asked softly. Tux repeated it, adding more snark to the heavy dose of sarcasm.

“My cat’s Rogue.” Kenna sighed. “Of course she is. No wonder STAR couldn’t handle her. Good grief.”  
In the end, it took a bowl of treats to lure both Eevee and Catwings down from the basketball hoop where they’d perched, and a further twelve for all the cats to say goodbye in their own ways.  
Still, all in all, it was quite a success, and Iris had a new story to put on her blog, and run by Mason Bridge, if he ever got back from the weekend vacation he’d apparently gone on.

* * *

  
Across the city, Joe West looked at the cat sleeping on his newly dry cleaned jacket and sighed. Just his luck that the world’s fastest cat also shed, and had long white and grey fur to boot. Still, like with Barry, he couldn’t stay mad. Nyoom was a cute little thing when she wasn’t trying to eat his breakfast…and, he had to admit, even then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going for sort of Slice of Life here, but we'll get back to your regularly scheduled Plot soon. Remember, I live on comments so please review.


	13. Chapter eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't like the Tricksters episode a whole lot so here, have a chapter that covers that timeslot yet hardly touches the episode events.

“Are you certain this is wise?” Dr. Wells asked, frowning at the computer display. “Someone with her abilities could do an untold amount of damage to this city, to this country. What if Ms. Baez decides that instead of just popping into the back of a truck for a bag or two, she’d rather have the entire thing? Or decides she likes Mrs. Jones next door’s teakettle and starts helping herself?”

“Dr. Wells,” Barry looked at Cisco and Caitlin for support, and they nodded. Barry still had the edges of misgivings growing, the way some things didn’t add up, but he still didn’t want to flat out tell the man he’d idolized for so long that he was wrong about Peekaboo without back-up. He didn’t want to have his own thoughts muddled and turned against him. “We’ve talked about it, and I think—“

“We think,” Caitlin put in, not willing to let Barry throw himself under a bus without her to help haul him out.

“—that it’s worth the risk. She wasn’t violent, even when I fought her it was defensive.”

“You got shot,” Wells reminded him. Faulkner poked his head up from the computer desk where he was sprawled across the keyboard, having clearly learned that word.

“Grazed,” Barry countered automatically, “and that was the boyfriend. I’ve looked. He’s gone, probably out of the state by now, if not the country.”  
“And as much as she still loves him, she told me when I brought her lunch the other day that if she ever sees him again she’s ‘gonna smack him and maybe leave him on a rooftop somewhere, see how he likes being abandoned.’” Cisco shrugged, fighting to contain an agitated Fuzzwhump.  
“Right,” Barry nodded. “She’s not a killer, and—my dad. He never hurt anyone, and I’ve been fighting since I was eleven for him. He doesn’t deserve to be in prison and—well, neither does she. She made some mistakes, trying to help the people she cares about, and I’ve just been thinking about that, and it feels hard to blame her.”  
“I still cannot possibly condone—“ Wells started, shooing Apricot from his lap.  
“It’s what we wanted to do in the first place,” Caitlin said quietly. “Rehabilitate. She’s not violent, she doesn’t want to hurt anyone—which given that we locked her in a box without a trial is probably a miracle. Dr. Wells, this was what we wanted to do. Help people. It’s one thing, Mardon and Nimbus and Bivolo, they killed people, or tried to, they like using their gifts to hurt people, and they had arrest warrants outstanding.”  
“We know how to find her, catch her.” Barry said, wanting Wells to say something. “If she’s a problem, we can deal with it. But this—what we have—it can’t last forever, for the rest of their lives, and the sooner we do something….”  
Apricot leaped back onto Wells’s lap, purring earnestly.  He took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose.   
“When this goes wrong, do not expect me to say that I did not warn you. But I hardly think I can stop you, if you all have your minds set on this.” He plucked at a pant leg, then relented and scratched a spot behind Apricot’s left ear.

* * *

  
Shawna didn’t believe them at first, and said as much staring blankly at the mirrored door of her cell with a look that seemed more heartbroken resignation than anger.  
“Yeah, you’re just gonna let me walk out of here? As if. What’s the catch, huh? You got some kind of,” she waved a hand, “ slave collar that tracks where I go and what I do, so you can swoop in and lock me up again if I jump across the street, something that’ll block what I am? What you people made me with your particle thingy? Or am I your errand girl, trip up any traps for you, play fetch, cuz I’m supposed to be grateful? Be at your beck and call, with this _box_ waiting if I screw up? Yeah, right. That’s no life either.”  
“No strings, Shawna,” Caitlin said carefully. “Except that you obey the same laws everyone else is supposed to. You can use your—gifts.”

“Just not to steal.” Cisco finished. “But feel free to kick serious butt at Parkour or mess with magicians in Vegas by disappearing on them.”  
Before Shawna could reply to that, Peanut Butter stepped easily through the cell door, purring loudly and licking the young woman’s hand as she bent to greet the cat. After a moment, she said in a soft voice, “what would I do? I—I don’t have anything. It’s been months, I’ve probably been evicted, I don’t have a job, or….You took that all from me.”  
Barry opened his mouth to remind her that she’d been the one to commit grand theft and getting locked up would have been the outcome no matter what, but Cisco interrupted.  
“Actually, it’s, um, only been six weeks, and I called your landlord yesterday.” Cisco blushed slightly. “Says your apartment’s paid up till the end of the month. Some foundation took care of it. And as for a job, I mean…you could probably start a delivery service or something. You know how much college kids would pay for stuff that’s not pizza to be delivered? Not a whole lot because broke students, but it adds up, and you wouldn’t need to buy gas or anything so it’d be all profit. Heck, office guys too, on dinky little 15 minute lunch breaks, now that’s an untapped market.” Aware that everyone was staring at him, except Shawna who was staring somewhere vaguely to his left, he shrugged. “I came up with plans for everyone else, too. Mist could make bank as pest control, Weather Wizard should really just offer to end the drought in California in exchange for ten bucks per citizen, if Prism can manage other colors and affects he’d be the best therapist…what? You guys have your hobbies, I have mine.”  
Shawna chewed her lip. “You mean it.” It wasn’t a question. “You aren’t—this isn’t some trick, you’re not giving me to some—someone who’d try to—“

“Never,” Barry said firmly, realizing what she meant. It occurred to him that all of the metas must have some of that fear, like what had happened to Bette, what Eiling probably would have done to him if Scrap hadn’t mauled him half to death. “We won’t bother you, either. So long as you don’t hurt anyone, or commit any crimes, you’ll never have to deal with us again. Unless you want to—you could probably save a lot of people with your jumping. But I promise, we won’t hunt you down unless you give us reason to.”  
She nodded. “I—what about Peanut?”  
Barry looked at Caitlin and Cisco, who stared bewildered back. They hadn’t thought about that. Finally Caitlin answered. “She’s a cat who walks through walls. She goes where she wants, and if she wants to stay with you, we can’t stop her, any more than you could stop her from staying here.”  
“Fair enough. Cats are…I like cats. They—they don’t need anybody, but they still—like company. Sometimes. Alright. I go straight. No more…anything. And you leave me be.”  
There was a general sigh of relief. Cisco reached out to open the door, and when the glass slid apart, Shawna didn’t run, or jump away until she and Peanut Butter (and a box of cat supplies) were standing outside.

* * *

  
Fuzzwhump sat in Cisco’s lap as he typed, all the humans looking very worried about something. The Nyoomman had come back from work smelling singed and upset, and there had been a lot of very loud bad noises earlier. Bombs, Faulkner said. Fuzzwhump was working on kneeding her kitten claws into her human’s pant leg, to assure him she was there and wouldn’t leave him again. But then Georgia called a Meeting and said that Bear was there, and it had been such a long time since she’d seen Bear….She mewed at Sco, trying to make sure he knew to stay with Nyoomman, and Nyomman’s friend, the big man with no fur on his head who was Protector. She hoped it would work.  
_(Bear, how Goldie, how Puppy and Ris?)_ Felix wanted to know.  
_(Goldie fine, all fine. But. At meet, with Koshek and Havoc and other cats, like us cats, Goldie talk to Rita. Rita fine. But say, Fuzz saw Wheelman kill Sco. And Goldie and me, we know lie. We know truth.)  
(yes?)_ Faulkner chirped, swishing his tail.  
_(Is true. Wheelman kill Sco. Maybe, not stay happen. Do not know how, but. Wheelman dangerous.)_

 _(lie!)_ Apricot shrilled, loud enough that Caitlin looked in at the gathered covey of cats. _(He no-)_ She could not finish the sentence, not with Bear there.  
_(What we do?)_ Frieda asked her twin. ( _Faulkner tell, warn?)  
(No.) _ Georgia hissed after a moment. ( _If tell, he maybe say, is cats, cats do not know. Or, is joke. He maybe then hurt Fuzz, hurt Faulkner, so can no tell again. We watch. We do like lionesses, like tigers. Protect the litter, all the litter. Sco, and Soft one, and Nyooman, all. But careful. Always listen, always watch. Agree?)_

 _(Agree)_ came a chorus of meows, followed by Georgia licking Fuzzwhump’s ear in a motherly sort of way.  
_(Sorry did not believe.)  
(believe now. Enough.) _ Fuzzwhump went back to her Sco’s lap, purring. They would keep him safe if Wheelman tried again. She could not grow big like Scrap, or set herself on fire like Ginger, or grow spikes like Spike, but she would protect her human, no matter what.

* * *

  
Iris debated calling Barry again, enjoying how absolutely nervous his voice got when she made another pun, how awkward he seemed upon showing up. But she decided against it, opting to prepare for the mayor’s shindig instead. She was glad to finally get a story that wasn’t about the Flash, or riding on Mason’s coattails, even if she was sure she’d just been the last second replacement since Mason was…wherever he was. She was getting more and more worried about that, she’d even mentioned it to her dad, but he’d just looked like he was worried about something else and told her it was probably nothing. If not for the bombings, she might have thought he was hiding something. Then again, if Barry really was the Flash, he probably _was._  Maybe she should start making puns at him, too.  
  
“What do you think of the dress?” She asked Eddie, eyeing their two cats watching from the bed. Eddie laughed.   
“You look beautiful, Iris. I’d say that with or without our furry little polygraphs.”  
“I know,” Iris grinned. “But this way, I know you aren’t just trying to make me feel good.”  
“I should get going,” he said, crossing the room to kiss her. “With that lunatic Jesse on the loose, it’s all hands on deck.”

Iris nodded. “Be safe.”  
“You too,” he told her seriously.   
“I’m going to a fundraiser, not active shooting sites and chasing after bombers. Don’t worry about me.” Iris tucked her phone into her bag, and wondered if she ought to take a jacket, but it was a warm enough evening, and her dress had sleeves.  
“Be good, kitties,” she called as she left.

* * *

  
It could have been worse. It really, really could have been worse. As it was, it still sucked, and Iris was seriously questioning the universe. How was this fair? In the last nine months she’d been held hostage twice, not counting the Tony kidnapping her thing (and that was a question, what had happened to the guy? She hoped he was rotting in some prison strong enough to hold him, her hand had hurt for weeks.) and her dad was probably never going to trust her to leave her apartment again without Eddie and four other cops, at least.   
  
On the bright side, she was alive, Jesse had been arrested, and she had absolute proof that Barry Allen was a lying liar who lies because he hadn’t bothered changing his voice when he was standing right in front of her. Maybe the puns had broken him down. She was still gonna let him stew for a while, though. Possibly grovel for her forgiveness for lying about everything that had happened since he woke up.   
  
Honestly though, all she wanted right now was a long, hot bath and a cronut or three, diet be damned. Eddie wasn’t home when she unlocked the door, but Goldie and Bear greeted her with worried mews, as if they knew how scared she’d been.  
And she had been. Terrified, even if Barry had unwittingly saved her life ages ago by telling her never to drink on the job, and then again by taking out Jesse and his sidekick. She’d been petrified for him, the bomb on his wrist, sure that she was never going to see him again, sure that everything was going to go wrong….but then it hadn’t. He’d been ok, he’d come back in a streak of lightning, flickering and shouting reassurances. She’d put on a calm face, the way she always did. First rule of being a cop, or a cop’s kid: panic later. After it’s over, you can be as scared and panicky as you want, but during crisis, it only gets you or others killed. It had saved her life time and time again, being Strong, but now….Everything seemed so much.  
So she scooped up her cats, both of them, burying her face in their soft, warm fur and let herself calm.  
Too many secrets in her life, and too many close calls to not demand truth. Tomorrow. She’d get answers tomorrow.

* * *

  
Henry Allen allowed himself to be mobbed by cats, a welcome comfort following his hostage ordeal. Barry explained on the way to STAR about the powers some of them possessed, but the true power was how calming they could be, how they seemed to realize how cold his hands were. They purred and arranged themselves around him as everyone spoke, as he got the chance to speak to his son, face to face, no windows or cuffs or cameras.  
  
He knew it couldn’t last forever, but also that with Joe and Barry looking for answers, neither could his arrangement. He just hoped they’d be careful.  
  
As he left, Joe walking beside him, not pushing or leading him along in cuffs, he only had to pause once to disentangle a kitten from his pant leg.

* * *

  
“Eddie, we need your help with this,” Joe repeated. Eddie raised his eyebrows.  
“Can I get this straight?” he asked, looking from Joe to Barry. Barry Allen, who was apparently the Flash. Suddenly a lot more made sense, like The Flash’s anger around the time he’d been trying to get a task force approved, all those times Barry’d mysteriously arrived somewhere or vanished…even the lightning psychosis thing—of course Barry’d been acting strange, his friend had been abducted by a supervillain that day. Honestly it explained a lot more than it didn’t. “You both want me to lie to Iris about her boss.”

“He’s probably dead,” Joe said grimly. “And we can’t let her go poking around. The man who did it—“

“The man in Yellow. Who killed—“

“My mother. Yes. I can’t let him hurt Iris. We have to protect her.” Barry scooped Nyoom up, cradling the fluffy ball of static and fur.  
“I want to keep her safe as much as you do, believe me,” Eddie said earnestly. “But you’re forgetting something.”

“What?” Joe asked. “If it’s her tenacity, I know, I raised her. That’s why we need you on this.”

“That’s not it,” Eddie shook his head. “I mean, you guys do realize I live with lie detectors, right?”  
Barry and Joe shared a look, communicating a silent “oh crap” that Eddie took to mean that they had forgotten.   
“Um. In that case. Uh.” Barry went visibly paler. “I think…she’s been saying some things…she might….already know.”  
Joe glared, but sighed. “Then it’s not me being angry you should be worried about. It’s her.”

“Well, it was nice knowing you, Allen. I’ll alert the morgue.” Eddie shook his head disbelievingly. “She’s going to kill us all.”  
~~  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm basically working full time now? but I'm gonna try to keep this updating at least every other week. Let me know what you like, keep me motivated :)


	14. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> plot??? Cisco? Fuzzwhump? Barry's trust issues are not so much?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I’m back to Metakitties! A disclaimer: I don’t watch Arrow, I don’t know what was going on in Arrow while this episode was going down, so if there are inaccuracies…it’s for humor and kitties, so.   
> We’re getting closer to end game here, guys. I’ll say now: this will continue to season two, but NOT until next spring, after the season has finished, so that I can know what to change and what has to stay, and how what’s going AU in this will be affecting that etc. that said, there’s at least 6 more chapters of this nonsense to come, soo….
> 
> This chapter’s for Mikkal because she’s amazing and deserves many nice things.

“You really need to stop bringing your cat to crime scenes.” Joe told Barry, who shrugged.  Nyoom was sniffing at a car tire.  
“Joe. I don’t bring her anywhere, she follows. I think she learned that phasing trick Wells taught me, too.”  
“God help us.” Joe sighed. “So, cause of death?”  
“It—well, it looks like some kind of animal bite or something—not cat obviously, or something big, but, more insect. I’ll need to take some samples.” Barry shrugged, then noticed Eddie, who jogged over, notepad in hand. “Have you spoken to, uh, Iris?”  
“Seeing as how it’s not someone else looking over our corpses, what do you think?” Eddie sighed and scratched the side of his head. “Victim’s Lindsay Kang. Witness saw her get into her car last night, so whatever it was must have been waiting. This is more Meta-stuff, isn’t it?”  
“It looks that way. We’re gonna take a sample to STAR Labs now, keep canvassing.” Joe nodded at Barry, who made a vague protest, but Nyoom was pawing at his leg. She needed her kibble, and he needed a calorie bar, and they couldn’t get that by avoiding STAR.  
_Besides,_ Barry thought vehemently, _Joe trusted Cisco before with looking at the blood samples. They’re my friends. Yeah, Wells is their—their boss and hero, but if they were in on all of this….no. They aren’t. They stood up against him for Shawna, and…_ Barry couldn’t get the look on Cisco’s face, after the kidnapping, out of his mind. There was no way on earth Cisco would betray him by working with Wells, if he knew. No way at all.   
Maybe he should try it out on Goldie and Bear. That would work, he’d go over to Iris’s later. They really did need to talk, Eddie and him and Iris. He’d probably need to bring Nyoom, and maybe Moose. Hopefully Iris would consider the jail time and not actually kill and/or maim them, but it couldn’t hurt to be careful.  


* * *

 

“Well, it’s Apitoxin,” Caitlin looked at the results. “But it’s not right. You said there were, what, forty stings?”  
“Yeah,” Barry didn’t like where this was going already.   
“And yet, Honeybees can only deposit a tiny amount of venom in a sting and you told us there were no bees found in the car...” Dr. Wells frowned.   
“Bees?” Cisco squeaked. “I signed up for a lot of things, but not Bees.” Fuzzwhump sensed the agitation and wriggled her way up to his shoulder, using her tail for balance as she patted at his cheek. He lifted her down, absently cradling her.   
“Worse,” Caitlin shook the sheet of paper. “There was enough apitoxin in her system to kill a herd of elephants. It wouldn’t take a lot of stings to kill a person even if they aren’t allergic. And—“ she looked at Cisco, then at Fuzzwhump, then at Scrap, Nyoom, and the other assorted cats, who seemed to be constantly present now more than ever, as if they were waiting for something, or someone.  
“Perhaps we should look into making one of the pipeline cells phase proof.” Wells said. “I think we all know that if there is danger, they will try everything in their power, most of them, to come to our aid, though it may be best for them to sit this one out.”  
Cisco shook his head. “I think the pipeline cells count as closets for Lucy. If that Meta’s still loose out there, I don’t think we can stop the cats. Maybe Caitlin could soup up an epipen and we can get Faulkner to explain?” He looked greenish.   
“Yeah,” Barry nodded. “Besides, we still don’t know-oh, hi, Nyoom.” Nyoom had sprung onto his shoulder with surprising force. Nearby, Cassie was sitting stock still, not even twitching her tail, staring at the door. Barry would have shrugged it off, but Nyoom was getting heavy, even for a speedster. “We don’t know how the meta controls them, or amps up the toxicity.”  
Cisco shuddered again, and Fuzzwhump let out a shrill mew, nosing his hair. “O-kay, well I’m just gonna go get a beekeeper suit, in that case, who else wants one?”  
“I think Nyoom and I can out run a couple of bees, Cisco,” Barry shook his head.  
“Just don’t run into the harbor.” A familiar voice came from behind them. “Bees will follow you and wait for—oh my god is that a cat? Is that twelve cats? Ugh, this is so unfair, we don’t get cats, we just get Broody McAngsty-Arrows and sometimes mice.” Felicity Smoak bent down and tried to coax Cassie over. “Hi, Kitty, c’mere.”  
“Felicity?” Barry asked. “What are you doing here?”  
“Being jealous of the cats.” Felicity didn’t take her eyes off of Cassie, continuing to rub her fingers together and hold out her hand. Cassie blinked, then started for the door, tail brushing Felicity’s arm. “Rude. I think. Cats. Where did you get so many and why do you have them?”  
“Excellent questions, Ms. Smoak. Ask us another, if you like.” Dr. Wells rubbed his glasses on a slightly orange black sweater. “What brings you to Central City?”  
“Oh!” Felicity stood up. “Um, well, it’s kind of a long –“  
“Uh, Hi. The cat led me in?” All heads turned.   
“I’m Ray.” The stranger waved, grinning sheepishly.

* * *

  
Mostly everyone was gone, and that suited Fuzzwhump Not Fine At All.  Wheelman was upstairs, still, and the Nyooman was gone. There was a new human, and Fuzzwhump wasn’t sure about him. Cassie seemed to like him ok, but Cassie liked everyone. So while the rest of the cats went off with Nyooman, or the Soft one, or to confer with Goldie and Bear, Fuzzwhump stayed latched to Sco’s shirt no matter how much he tried to pry her off.   
The last time she had left him alone, people had hurt him and his littermate. Maybe she was only small, but she would fight.  
She knew that wasn’t much. If only she were like her brothers and sisters, if only she had a way to protect, like Moose, or Spike!  
And then Sco said something to the new person, in a metal suit, and they started walking. Down the hall. To the elevator.  
Fuzzwhump _panicked. (NO CANNOT GO NOT GO WILL GET HURT IS BAD PLACE IS BAD PLACE NO NO NO NONONONONONONO)_ Her fur, getting longer, fluffed out, her ears flattened and she hissed. Sco had to listen, why wouldn’t he listen?  
“Fuzzwhump, chill out, hey, hey it’s ok.” Cisco put a hand on her head, then drew her down for a cuddle, trapping her. “What is with you?”  
“Is she always like that?” Ray asked, extending a finger to pet the kitten.  
“Lately,” Cisco said as Fuzzwhump took a swipe at ray, kitten claws extended. Ray startled backward. “I think she might be sick or something, she’s been really edgy. It would help if we knew what her powers are. So far it’s mostly just her and Apricot that we don’t know about. We have theories about the others.”  
“I still can’t believe, I mean, I knew things were weird here. Felicity told me about the Flash and the metahumans and all, but…it’s weirder with cats. I mean, I guess it makes sense, though, that it wouldn’t just be humans who were affected. Maybe it’s not even limited to cats. Metabees, maybe?”  
Cisco winced, and Fuzzwhump, who had settled some, recognized his discomfort. “I hope not. I really, really don’t like bees.” He held up a hand “I know, we need them for the environment. But we don’t need them within evil stinging range of _me_.”  
“Agreed,” Ray sighed. “So you think we can fix my suit?”  
“Think? Pfft. Of course we can.”  
  
Fuzzwhump found it difficult to remain perched on Sco’s shoulder with his constantly reaching up or down or around the metal-man suit, and though she hated to, she founda place to sit on the desk, watching with fearful eyes. The room was big, and there was the metal platform that had hummed and buzzed, but Sco wasn’t acting like he remembered what had happened. No one seemed to. Even Wheelman seemed like he’d always seemed. That scarred Fuzz. She knew she was right, but what if it had been like Cassie? What if she had seen a thing before it happened?  
The new person was talking, and Sco was talking, excited but not scared or nervous. It was like when he built a New Thing. Fuzzwhump purred, she liked it when Sco built New things because it made him happy, and made the anger-sad-scared that so often filled up the building go away, lots of the time.  
She didn’t stray far, though, sniffing around for toys. She’d had a catnip mouse down here the day that Sco had been hurt, but now it wasn’t here. There was dust under the table, she wished at it with her tail and paw, confused.  
The others would know, they were bigger, older, maybe they could figure it out.  
She hadn’t strayed far and suddenly she was glad. Human speak was a mystery to her, aside from some names and a few words, Home, and No, and Treat, and Down. But the sounds sometimes were familiar, she could understand that a thing had been said before even if she didn’t know what it meant.  
and the New Human who smelled so friendly was looking at Sco, and said sounds that froze Fuzz’s ears straight up and made every bit of fur stand up. The Wheelman had said those words before, and then he’d hurt Sco.  
Sco was frozen, his face pained, and his heart went fast and scared and Fuzzwhump _leaped._  
  
It took five minutes of soothing reassurance to get Fuzzwhump to let go of Ray’s ear.   
“I don’t think your cat likes me very much,” Ray groaned.   
“I’m sorry. I should have known, I thought she was doing better, I thought I was doing better, but—“  
“Wait, what?” Ray blotted at the bite mark. “Are you sure you’re ok?”  
“I’m fine, I just—headaches. Not enough sleep. You know how it is.” Cisco winced again at the sight of the red spots on the paper town. “I’m sorry.”  
Fuzzwhump growled from the desk drawer Cisco had been forced to stash her in. “I’m gonna go upstairs with her, see if Caitlin can figure this out. Or something.”  
They were interrupted by a killer bee attack across town. Cisco really, really hoped it wasn’t Metabees after all. The kittens were proving to be hard enough.

* * *

  
Iris read the text from Barry again, an invite to dinner with Eddie, plus Felicity and her boyfriend. Well, that sounded fun. She probably shouldn’t make puns about his clearly being the Flash in front of civilians though. She snorted.  
“Eddie’s a cop, yet he’s the civilian in thi—oh, no.” Eddie had fought with the Flash, as in, on his side. At Christmas, then when Caitlin had been kidnapped, even last night according to the statements from the diamond thieves she’d glanced at for an article she wanted to write. Eddie, how long had Eddie known? Did Eddie know?  
“Goldie, I have tuna,” she called.   
“Meerrp.” Goldie didn’t even bother to come out from the bedroom. Iris sighed.   
“Goldie, Eddie knows Barry’s the Flash.”  
All Iris heard was purring. _Ok, that does it._  She needed a battle plan. A busy restaurant and witnesses wouldn’t work, and if someone else was paying for dinner she wasn’t going to turn that down, but something had to be done. Maybe she’d invite Barry over, say it was to interview them both on recent cases, and sic Goldie on them. That would work.  
The time for mind games was over, she wanted answers. And fear. Maybe guilty apologies, too, she knew she’d get those out of Barry, at least, who knew just how swift and terrible her wrath might be, particularly when she was feeling creative.

* * *

  
  
Under any other circumstance, Barry would have been horrified at the “danger at STAR” alert he received. He was still horrified, obviously, because Wells was there, his mother’s killer was there, with Caitlin and Cisco and the cats, what if any of them discovered something and he hurt them? But that horror warred with the relief of escaping from the awkwardness that was being a fifth wheel, in a totally empty but for them fancy French restaurant. And escaping from Iris. The conversation had turned to work, and secrets, and keeping secrets and while Felicity and Ray had tried to avoid the questions as best they could, Barry shared a brief, desperate glance with Eddie.  
Iris was going to kill them all when they confirmed what she’d clearly guessed.  
So he ran, lightning under his feet, and burst into STAR’s cortex just as one of the nightmare-inducing creepy bees dodged a laser blast from a weapon Cisco was carrying and turned on Dr. Wells.   
Barry lunged forward, half out of self preservation, his mind racing (if Wells reveals himself now we’re all dead I can’t fight him yet), and half out of instinct, every fiber of his body screaming “protect.”  
  
He didn’t catch the bee.  
Apricot did. She hissed as it stung her, and swatted at it. It crunched as it hit the floor, and everyone froze.   
“Oh, god,” Caitlin whispered, racing forward, her hand fumbling for an epipen they weren’t even sure would work on the cats. But the marmalade cat, seated on the floor, only batted at the bee, which made a metallic clicking noise. Caitlin knocked it away with the pen and bent to look at the kitten, as everyone else held their breath. Even Wells’s face was set, lined with what Barry thought might be concern.  
“There’s a puncture, but…but no swelling. Or anything. I need to do a blood test, right now, I have to make sure there’s nothing in her system.”  
Sighs of relief went up from everyone. Apricot mewed in protest. (What big deal? I want my toy back! Let gooooo I want my toy, am fine!)

* * *

  
A blood test and a few other brief tests later (as well as a large amount of takeout from the Big Belly Burger because Barry hadn’t even gotten past the first tiny course) Caitlin determined that Apricot was fine. She’d been stung, there was even a droplet of the toxin caught in her fur near the wound, but for whatever reason her body had not been harmed by it.  
“Well, that’s new.” Cisco muttered, glancing at the Bee-that-was-apparently-a-robot. He was still glad it wasn’t metabees. Fuzzwhump poked her head out of the large pocket on the inside of his hoodie. “No, you stay there. You’re still in trouble, you can’t keep trying to kill people. That’s rude.”  
Fuzzwhump gave a short mew, and pressed her nose to Cisco’s wrist. He rubbed her ear, trying to stay stern. Was it the dreams he kept having? Was she sensing them, maybe?  
He hoped that wasn’t it, because if it was, he’d need to explain that to Caitlin and Barry, and how could he? The dreams were terrifying and ridiculous, impossible.

* * *

  
Felicity found herself mobbed by cats when she and Ray walked in, the black and white one called Cassie and two of the others. “And who are you?” she asked them, glancing up at Caitlin.  
“Santiago and Spike,” Caitlin told her. “Troublemakers, both of them.”  
“Really, they seem sweet. What do they do, if you don’t mind my asking?”  
“Santiago chewed through a steel door because he was bored. And as for Spike…guess.”  
“Oh, yikes. Dangerous kitties. I bet you’d fit right in at my—oh!” Santiago butted his head into Felicity’s knee, trying to get her to sit down. She sat, and he curled up on her lap. Not to be out-done, Spike climbed on top of him.  
“Someone’s popular,” Caitlin quirked a smile.

* * *

  
Barry was not looking forward to the “important meeting” Iris called in Joe’s living room, and wondered if he could just live at STAR Labs for the rest of his life, hiding from her. Then again, if anyone could get into STAR without notice, it was Iris.  
“When were you going to tell me?” she asked, standing up so that she towered, just slightly, over the three of them. Goldie and Bear were corralled into the room. Joe looked at Barry. Barry looked at Joe. Eddie raised a hand.  
“I only found out the day before yesterday,” he said.   
“Thanks for shoving me under the bus, dude,” Barry muttered.   
“It’s your bus!”  
“Look, Iris, Honey—“ Joe started.  
“No, honey is what you put on oatmeal. Honestly, how hard would it have been? For either of you? “Hey, Iris, just so you know, Barry has superpowers!” Did you not trust me? I had to learn this from my cats!”  
“I knew those cats would be trouble,” Joe muttered.   
“It’s not my cats’s fault that you both lied to me for—for months! Actively lied to me! How does that feel, huh? That a cat is more honest than the police? There’s a newspaper article for you.” She paused. “No, I wouldn’t write that, I’m not stupid, even if you seemed to think I was. I know what happened to Caitlin with Snart, and the Tony thing…but seriously. Give me some credit. Can you look me in the eye, all of you, and honestly tell me that I was safer not knowing? Stumbling around piecing things together instead of being prepared?”  
There was a long silence, courtesy of Bear, broken by Barry’s phone. Knowing that it was likely his own death sentence to ignore Iris, he still checked it, and went pale.  
“Look, Iris, I really have to go, someone’s going to die if I don’t you can kill me later ok?”  
He left, then returned to grab up Nyoom.  
Iris glared at the space where he’d been sitting. Eddie and Joe both swallowed nervously.   
“We should...probably go help with…” Eddie started. Iris turned on him. “or…not?”

* * *

  
Fuzzwhump watched from her pouch in Sco’s hoodie as they rescued the New Person, all sparking and wet. He’d crashed into the van, and she didn’t like the van, but everyone was happy to see him and she’d seen some of what he’d done on Sco’s little screen.  
He’d done good things. He’d gotten rid of the nasty bugs that scared Sco, made sure they didn’t hurt people. And he hadn’t hurt Sco.  
Now that she thought about it, he hadn’t hurt Sco before. Just said similar words. That still didn’t mean she liked him.  
Except that Sco liked him, but—but Sco liked the Wheelman, so maybe Sco didn’t know who to like and who not to like and it made her kitten brain go fuzzy like fur. She didn’t want to think about worry, she was sick of worry. She wanted to play Got Sco’s Toes and steal-share his breakfasts, not mew him out of nightmares. Maybe she could, maybe, because the others were keeping watch. They would all work together. She purred at her human, nuzzling his hand and squirming out of the pocket to cuddle next to his , and he held her as everyone clambered out of the van.

  
She saw the bee a heartbeat after Cisco did, already running forward.  
(SCO,) she shrilled as he dropped her, falling. (Sco, no! No! _Sco, get up, please get up, please.)_  
He didn’t. The Soft one tried to shood her away, tried to put her hands on Sco’s chest, but Fuzzwhump wouldn’t move, trying to find the heartbeat, it had to be there. The Soft one knocked her aside, and the New human caught her, holding her gently. He said her name, and set her down next to Sco’s head as the Soft one did something, pressing down and saying words Fuzz knew, the same things she’d mewed.  
She let the new human keep a hand—suddenly a comfort—on her back as she pressed her face against Sco’s throat and mewed, over, and over, and over.  
And then the Nyomman was there, urging everyone back, his hands sparking lightning and Fuzzwhump pressed closer. (No! Needs me! I stay! I stay!)  
  
Cisco coughed hard, the world swimming into some semblance of focus, a light-pollution tainted sky, his friend’s worried faces, Fuzzwhump licking his face. Before even allowing anyone to help him sit up, he pulled her to his chest, hugging her. “S’ok. S’ok.” He promised her. She squirmed, and licked his nose.  


* * *

  
Barry hid out at STAR Labs the rest of the night, under the pretense of making sure Cisco was ok. Which was mostly true, it just happened to have the added benefit of helping him avoid Iris for a little longer under a validish excuse. Ray and Felicity, however, left by dawn, in an effort to beat traffic. With them went Felicity’s new shadows, Cassie, Spike, and Santiago.

* * *

  
  
“Felicity?” Oliver asked, looking around. A fluffy cat was sitting on his quiver.  
“Yes?”  
“Explain.”  
“You know how I went to Central city? Well, Barry had cats. Magical cats. And these ones are ours!”  
“No.”  
“But they’ll be useful. For therapy, because trust me. We all need therapy. But for other things, like catching mice. Or finding bugs. Look!” she pointed at the cat seated on the Salmon Ladder. Oliver cursed inwardly. Three cats. Three. Weren’t things crazy enough? “This one’s Spike, you’ll get along great. He likes pointy things, too. He is one, a lot of the time, I think my cat still has puncture marks in the seats…”  
“Felicity!” He tried to shoo the cat off his quiver to no avail.   
“And this one can chew through solid steel. Just think how useful that would be if we ever got locked in a dungeon or something” Felicity grinned.  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it. ~awkward shrugging~


	15. chapter ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which remember how the early chapters were kind of like " eh, screw plot, kittens"? yeah, that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long. Aunt is still kinda sorta maybe dying. (pro: not in coma. Con: still basically in coma)  
> also sorry this kinda sucks my motivation is like zero for these chapters. I have so much I want to do for the finale....

Taking cats on a road trip had to be fairly high on the list of “Really dumb ideas that will not end well,” Cisco decided, though next to “ try to take out a psychopathic speedster we have no way of actually fighting,” it hadn’t seemed like that much of an issue. Fuzzwhump seemed to have settled down, once they’d started driving. Or rather, once it had been determined that her being in a cat carrier was probably more dangerous than her tucked inside Cisco’s jacket.  
  
Cisco was glad she’d stopped being so nervous all the time, though she was still half glued to him, refusing to let him go far. They’d gathered in Iris’s living room, bringing Faulkner along for the ride as he seemed to best understand what they said, to translate.  
  
“To translate,” Iris had repeated. “Right. Of course. Because we have to tell...cats...that something is going on. And that’s a sentence I was pretty sure I’d never say.”  
“Yeah,” Barry had countered “and I was pretty sure I’d never say “ I think Harrison Wells murdered my mother” and yet here we are.”  
  
That hadn’t been how Barry’ d intended to reveal his suspicions to Iris, Eddie, Cisco, and Caitlin, but literally nothing had gone according to plan in months, so Cisco wasn’t sure why anyone had even been surprised. In the moment of quiet as that all sank in, Cisco had spoken up from where his face was half buried in Fuzzwhump’s fur, telling everyone about the dreams.There had been a few moments of chaos, enough to rival the kittens that first week when Greebo had torn a bag of catnip to shreds and they’d all gone wild.

And then Faulkner had started typing. **Fuzz saw. Not dream, real. Fuzz there. Fuzz warn. Not listen. Should listen. Wheelman bad.**

Caitlin’s soft swearing and “That explains so much,” was lost to yet more chaos before Joe quieted everyone. With Goldie and Bear confirming everything, they needed a game plan.

Which was why Cisco had corralled Fuzzwhump into Joe’s car to make the long drive to Starling City to try and get more answers and some possible proof that might hold up in court when it came to that.

“If she pees on the floor mat-“ Joe warned as Fuzzwhump chewed on the seat belt.

“As long as we take a couple breaks, she won’t.” Cisco promised, looking down to boop Fuzzwhump’s nose. “Right, Fuzz?”

She hissed at the lap belt, clawing at it a little until Cisco laid a hand on her back. “Settle, kitty, settle.”

Never before had a 600 mile car trip seemed quite so long.  


* * *

 

Fuzzwhump hated few things more than car rides. Wheelman was one of those things, yappy dogs were another, but Car rides ranked very high on the list, and she was glad to be out and free to perch in Cisco’s hoodie pocket, her bottlebrush tail poking out. Still, she was on edge.

So when someone called her human’s name and he left the Big Man, she tensed. Cisco stuck a hand into the pocket for her to latch on to and lick, trying to calm her, with mixed results.

It was a woman’s voice, which was a little comfort to Fuzz. Still, it wasn’t until Cisco pulled her out that she relaxed. The woman smelled like Worry and Sad, but she reached out a hand, cooing, and waited to see what would happen instead of just petting. Fuzz appreciated that, and decided that since her human wasn’t scared, maybe it was ok. Maybe.

And then she heard “…Lunch?” and started to purr. Lunch was always a good plan.

“I think she likes you,” Cisco said. “She doesn’t like that many people.”

“I heard she tried to rip one of Ray Palmer’s ears off,” Laurel winced, offering a French fry to the kitten, who after a moment accepted it.

“She’s…protective,” Cisco hedged, not wanting to get into the reasoning.

“Fair enough. I heard about that Snart guy. People say cats aren’t like dogs, aren’t as warm or loving. They’re wrong about that.”

“You should meet Scrap, Caitlin’s cat. Someone—a general Eiling—tried to grab her and her fiancé once. It didn’t end so great for him.” Cisco paused. “Actually, I don’t even know if he survived that.”

“After meeting Santiago and Spike, I’m not surprised,” Laurel shook her head. “So do you think you can... fix the thing?”

“Yeah. Before we leave, I’m sure.  I brought some stuff to tinker with, so… yeah.”

Fuzzwhump was annoyed at him for staying up all night to finish the project, too small to successfully drag a pillow over to his head when he slumped over at his desk, but the way Laurel beamed made it worth it.

“So how was everything in central city while we were gone?” he asked Barry as everyone met up, once again in Iris’s living room.

“Having cats who can tell when someone is lying, and cats that can apparently read minds and-or body language on a better level and therefore tell if someone is actually a murderous doppelganger is really, really useful.” Barry said rubbing a spot on his jaw that bore the final traces of a bruise.

“….what.” Cisco flopped onto a patch of floor not occupied by cats, and was promptly accosted by Goldie and Bear sniffing at him.

“It wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. I don’t think Everyman was expecting us to call him on his bull while he was pretending to be his granny.” Eddie sighed, clutching a mug of coffee like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

“Or a cat growing to be the size of a Grizzly when he confronted Caitlin.” Iris put in.

“Fun fact,” Barry added, “ Capt. Singh’s cat can create really, really good illusions. Sometimes of people.”

“I think you better start from the beginning,” Joe rubbed his forehead. “Or maybe…later. Cisco and I found Dr. Wells. The real Dr. Wells. Dead ten years, in a shallow grave near the site of the wreck that killed Tess.”

Caitlin make a choking noise, and Fuzzwhump lifted her head to peer at the woman. “Then who have we been dealing with this whole time?”

“In the dreams he said his name was Eo—something. It’s fuzzy.”

(Yes! Fuzzy! Fuzz there, when Not Dream happen.) Goldie purred.

“You mentioned these dreams before,” Caitlin said. “But—they can’t have been—“ With Bear in the room, she could not finish the sentence.

“Well, now seems like a good time to tell you that I time traveled. And, uh, “reset” a timeline. By like a day and a half.” Barry paused. “ I went back to … uh… Right before Fuzzwhump started trying to kill Wells.”

“So…” Cisco swallowed hard. “ You think that they maybe aren’t dreams? But that—That I figured something out and he killed me, and somehow I remember it? And my cat? Wait. Fuzzwhump is that why you’ve been so clingy?”

She didn’t understand, only purred at him, rubbing her face against his wrist.

“How is this our lives?” Iris muttered to Goldie.

“Um.” Cisco looked up, a rather pained expression on his face. “ So if they’re memories. Maybe we can…use them.”

“How?” Barry asked. “I tried to use what I knew about the day that never happened and it…didn’t go so great.”

“If we can find out what Wells was willing to kill to hide…what Cisco figured out…”Joe shook his head.

“We could get a confession on camera.” Cisco said, softly. “Guys, I have a really bad idea.”

As if everyone could read his mind, there was a sudden chorus.

“No.”

“Absolutely not.”

“If you’re suggesting what I think you’re suggesting….”

“This isn’t an episode of Scooby doo.”

“Meow.”

Cisco would not be dissuaded.

* * *

 

Roughly the amount of time it took to empty a baggy of kitty treats after Sco went to bed surrounded by people, Fuzzwhump started to panic because he was talking, but then his heart stuttered. He cried out and she shoved her head into his hand, squirmed free again and pressed her face against his chin, shrilling until he woke up.

He clutched at her, trembling.

“No,” Joe said firmly. “We know what happened now, we’ll find some other way, some way that doesn’t risk your life.”

“I trust you guys,” Cisco said, once he had his breath back. “Does anyone have any better ideas? The longer we know and don’t do something, the—he’ll find out.”

“I still don’t like it,” Caitlin said, “But…Maybe if we tweak it some.”

“How?”

“You don’t just have Fuzzwhump with you and Barry and Joe and whoever waiting. Scrap should be there, she’ll understand if I tell her too.”

Cisco nodded, “And I can fix the Trap, reverse it. A Shield instead of a cage.”

Barry threw up his hands “Do I get a say in this? Because if there is any other way to do this—I already let you down. Twice, even.”

Cisco let Fuzzwhump curl her tail around his neck. “You won’t again. I trust you. This is our best shot.”

Barry’s phone rang. “It’s, uh… Wells.”

“Answer it,” Joe sighed. “We’ll finish this plan—a better one—later. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Barry zipped out a second later, Cisco and Caitlin and their cats following to go to STAR Labs, cats in tow.

“I’m going to go,” Joe told Eddie and Iris. “And now that you both know as much as I do—be safe. Iris, do not go digging any more without one of us, _please._ ” He still couldn’t shake Captain Lance’s statements from his memories, knowing that the man had lost one of his daughters.

“Joe,” Eddie followed him out. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about, about—“

“Eddie, it has to wait. Later, we’ll talk, but right now, I can’t. Got too much to think about as it is. My life used to be simple.”

Eddie touched the ring box in his pocket, glancing back over his shoulder at Iris, and sighed. “Tomorrow?”

“Sure, tomorrow.”

Goldie meowed.

* * *

 

“My name is Eobard Thawne,” said the man currently advancing on Cisco.

“Meow.” Goldie popped her head out from under the desk.

Cisco blinked, fear dissipating, as Everyman—why was Caitlin allowed to name things?—had precisely four seconds to try to hit him before being tackled by a half dozen cats and a pissed off Joe.  
His heartrate had almost returned to normal when Well’s voice rang out from the intercoms.

“You know, I should have seen that coming. Of all the things I planned for, trained for, anticipated…Cats were not on that list. But it’s no matter.” He laughed, and Cisco felt Fuzzwhump, slightly relaxed, go stiff with pure feline hatred. “I am almost impressed you thought this would work, though. I know you, I know all of you, how you think, how you plan. What good would a confession really do you—detective? Yes, I know you’re there. With no proof, no evidence..., just the word of a man who might have been the same shapeshifter that nearly framed your partner. Sloppy. But—admirable, in a sad kind of way. You know what I am. You’ve seen what I can do.  And I am always one. Step. Ahead.”

There was a rushing noise then, and quiet, even as Barry shouted—“Why? Fight me, if that’s what you want, fight me!” and got no answer.

Upstairs, Caitlin screeched as Faulkner, sitting beside Frieda, began to jab at the keyboard.

 **Bear. Say. Trouble. Wheelman. Took**. **Puppy. And. Ris.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the part where I pretend not to beg for comments but I'm sick and work sucks so just tell me if you liked it. if you didn't pretend you did? what's my life I don't know Barry makes shitty life choices and so do I.


	16. chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which friendly reminder that screw canon, this is crack sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Mikkal and Cr1m. You guys rock, thank you for listening to me brainstorm and pushing me to finish.

 

 

Felix, Schrodi, and Lucy returned from their patrol, exhausted and frustrated. They had found nothing of use.  While the Nyoomman and Nyoom searched desperately for Ris and Puppy and the Wheelman who’d taken them, the kittens did the same, hardly kittens any more. Even those of them who had very little grasp of People Speak knew that the more time passed, the worse things would be. So they searched, trying to follow familiar smells.

 

It was just such a big city for such little feet. Goldie was beside herself, yowling and refusing comfort. Not even the Big man could calm her, or Sco, though they tried. Even Bear couldn’t get her to rest easy, licking his littermate’s speckled ears.

 

Things were hardly easier for the humans. As Barry ran himself desperately ragged, Joe watched Cisco try to find any traces of his daughter and partner with haunted eyes, and took to the streets himself, though they all knew that much was pointless. They even searched Iris’s blog email, looking through every scrap of story anyone had sent in, hoping for a recent location of the streak of yellow that was the Reverse Flash. There was nothing, just the usual—reports of the Flash, of the Flashcat, of a woman who appeared inside a locked car to save a baby from overheating, of a wild gorilla on the loose.

 

“I’ve looked everywhere,” Barry said, his head in his hands as he sank down onto the edge of the treadmill, easing his shoes off his feet. Sturdy as they were, he’d run holes in them. Cisco couldn’t bring himself to tsk. The Shoes were nothing compared to Eddie and Iris.

“Meerrp,” Goldie whined from where Joe cradled her. Everyone froze.

“Did we try? Using the cats?” Caitlin wet her lips, suddenly thoughtful. Scrap mewed a sharp, high, (Nope).

Joe looked at Cisco, then Barry.

“It can’t hurt to try…” Cisco offered. “Like twenty questions. Only not questions. Eddie and Iris are alive.”

No one glared at him for voicing that fear, and all sighed when Goldie didn’t mew to signify a lie.

 “They’re hurt.”

“Meerrp,”

Joe sagged in relief.

“They’re together,” Caitlin said next.

“Meerrp.”

“They’re still in Central City.” Barry leaned forward.  
Silence.  
“They’re…Underground?” Cisco offered.  
More silence. Caitlin got to her feet so fast Scrap almost went flying and returned with a map of the city.  
“One of them is in this section.” She pointed.  
“Meerrp.”  
Cisco knelt beside her, and Fuzzewhump curled up in the middle of the bay on the map, her tail twitching. “One of them is in this section,” he jabbed at the waterfront.  
“Meerrp.”  
“One of them’s in this section,” Barry pointed at the map co-ordinates that contained a warehouse district.  
“Meerrp.”  
It felt like guesswork, tedious and foolish, but if it brought his daughter home, if it saved his partner, Joe would go through every block on that map to the armload of golden fur. “One of them’s here.” He pointed at random, Goldie squirming from his suddenly tight grip to rub against Barry’s hands.

There was silence again, made longer and more painful when Joe realized where he was pointing.  
“That’s where we are…That’s STAR,” Cisco breathed. “You don’t think…?”  
Barry was off like a shot, streaking down the corridors, down the stairway, to the pipeline door. As it opened, a flash of red lightning blazed past.  
Barry ran. Goldie ran in the opposite direction, calling for her family.

* * *

 

Eddie hadn’t waited after Eobard left to start shouting again. Usually, the nut-job in the yellow suit returned to threaten him, or glare at him until he shut up within seconds, and that was what Eddie was hoping for. If his psychotic great-great grandson was threatening _him_ , he wasn’t threatening Iris. It had been days, and still Eddie didn’t have anything beyond a promise that she wouldn’t be harmed, though the silent “yet” was a constant worry. And Eddie didn’t trust the promise of a Thawne further than he could throw a truck—too many were politicians at heart.

Something behind and above him rattled, and Eddie strained at the rough bindings again, keeping up his yelling. Eobard needed him alive, so that at least was something. Judging by the newspaper article he’d showed off, he wanted Iris alive, too. Eddie’d hope for the best, that that would be enough until they could get out of this.  
  
The noise above stopped, and faintly he heard something padding over, nearly silent. There was no faint, warped buzzing, no angry lightning. Eddie swallowed a hard gulp of air as he felt something watching him, tried to crane his head to see into the shadows behind him.  
  
Goldie and another cat, Schrodinger, he thought, leaped up onto his lap, purring. As the smudgy black and white cat kneaded his legs, Goldie planted her front paws on Eddie’s chest and rubbed her face against his stubble covered cheeks.   
  
“Good kitty,” Eddie managed to get out as she meowed a greeting, still purring and nosing his face. She didn’t seem to mind the wetness on his cheeks as he at last, in the face of rescue, allowed himself to fall apart. Overhead, he heard Joe’s voice, and Cisco’s.  
Goldie licked his nose.

* * *

 

Barry only barely made it out of the sewers the first time he went in to save Iris. Goldie again confirmed that she was still alive, still unharmed, but that did very little to soothe anyone, knowing that her jailer was a massive, murderous, telepathic gorilla. As Cisco and Caitlin set to building an Anti-Telepathy Tiara, the cats had other plans.  
  
Freida and Georgia led the way, twin red tails held high like flags, and the distaste at entering the smelly, wet sewers was to be put on hold until later, when they could have Sco and the Soft one pat their paws dry with fuzzy towels. So in they went, with Felix and Apricot and Sue for backup.   
  
Down one of the drier tunnels, they smelled what had to be Gorilla, big, damp furred, reeking of Fear and Anger. The hulking monster turned on them, opened his mouth to roar. Freida winced with the images he projected, and sent one right back, Ris’s soft hands brushing Goldie’s fur, one of Bear’s memories, then one of her own, being cuddled as a kitten, then one of Nyoom’s, and on, and on. Georgia added her own voice, just as steady and resonant, because it held the voice of the entire clowder.  
  
**You stop that right now!**

 **I AM GRODD.**  Grodd returned, snarling, batting at the air as if to drive away the images. Felix busied himself chewing on the rope that secured Iris’s hands to a ring in the wall.  
  
**And we are Cat. Enough. No hurt. No more hurt.** Georgia laid back her ears and showed her own, much smaller teeth.

**Father say—**

**Father _Lie_. ** Georgia’s words were underscored by Fuzz’s memories, pushed through by Freida, the Wheelman hurting Sco, and then one of Scrap’s memories, Ris and the Soft One gently talking and comforting. ****  
  
No L—Grodd stopped, unable to finish even in his own thoughts as Bear twined his tail around Iris’s legs, pressing his head into her stomach and mewing softly, (Is safe, I here, I protect.)  
  
_(Was Father, me too)._ Apricot ignored the warning his from Georgia, darting around Freida’s paws, to sit, her pale orange fur gleaming in the dim light, at Grodd’s feet _. (Understand. Listen? No hurt. No more. Be…Be own self. Free like Cats.)_

Iris stifled a scream as Grodd’s massive hand came down, and with the forced gentle grace of a toddler told to “be soft” lifted the kitten. Apricot purred, hesitantly at first, opening her mind up. Hoping he could understand her words without Georgia offering them up, she continued to mew. Grodd smelled like hurting, like Sad and Scared and Confused. She licked a paw, and swiped it over his arm, like she might clean her own ears.  
  
Grodd did not speak again, only looked at her, dark eyes meeting paler ones, her tail swishing against his palm. Apricot breathed lightly, then stretched forward her head to butt his nose.

Grodd blinked. **We go. Away from here. Me. Girl. You.**

Apricot twitched her tail again. ( _Me, yes. Leave girl. We go. Georgia, tell. Please. Need this.)_

Grodd blinked again, loosening his hold. Apricot climbed easily to his shoulder, and they left, vanishing into the gloom. Georgia and Frieda did not wail for their sister kitten, though a part of them wanted to, the way they missed Peanut Butter, and Santiago and Spike, and all those who had chosen their own path.

Iris emerged from the sewers as Barry raced in. He was wearing the frankly ridiculous tiara contraption, and she was covered in cats, but both of them managed to hold in the laughter that was more relief than anything else, at least for the moment.

* * *

  
  
Of course, nothing could ever go right for more than ten minutes. While Cisco had explored the Pipeline, Fuzzwhump on his shoulder and a guard detail of cats following him, he’d found the power source Eddie had mentioned seeing. Cisco was pretty sure that Glowy Light Tubes created by Evil Time-traveling Murderers were signs of bad thing to come. A few quick checks later, he interrupted the reunion in the main room, where Iris and Eddie were practically glued together at the hip, Bear and Goldie seated protectively, and Caitlin topping up mugs of soup.

“We’ve got a problem,” Cisco winced. “I figure, maybe 36 hours.”

“Until what?” Joe asked, tensing up again.

“Until the Particle Accelerator turns back on.”

“Can it do that?” Iris asked, picking a potato chunk out of the soup with her spoon.

Cisco threw up his hands, and Fuzzwhump hunkered down on his shoulder. “Apparently.”

“Great,” Barry groaned. “Now what?”  
“Now, we need to figure out what do do about the Metahumans.” Caitlin wrinkled her nose. “If that thing turns on… I’m going to try to call Ronnie. I get the feeling we’ll need Firestorm.”

* * *

  
They couldn’t reach Ronnie or Stein right away, and Oliver was apparently very busy, but Dig and Lyla offered a tentative solution. It wasn’t ideal, but neither was letting a bunch of murderers loose, or flat out letting them die. (Though it did cross Barry’s mind that Kyle Nimbus was technically supposed to be dead, and if it came down to it, they could probably contain him in a vacuum cleaner for a little while.)

While Cisco chatted about specs and the new additions to team Arrow --Spike had finally won over Oliver, having used himself as a projectile weapon during a particularly hopeless seeming fight, though Oliver wouldn’t admit it—Barry ran an errand. With no Oliver or Firestorm to have his back, there was one person he might be able to turn to.  
  
“Um, no,” Shawna said flatly, scratching Peanut Butter’s back and glaring at Barry from her doorway. “You said I was free, no strings. This? This is a string.”

“It’s not, it’s—please, Shawna. A favor. We have to move the other metas, or they’ll die, but if we let them go, they’ll—Mardon tried to kill my foster dad, and he wanted to destroy the whole city. Nimbus—you know what he can do. I don’t like it, but there’s no way we have to keep them from just killing, or hurting anyone they feel like. We need your help.”

Shawna sucked on her lower lip, then shook her head again. “I can’t. Night time, dimly lit area, that’s asking for trouble, and I can only move one person at a time anyway, and not into something I can’t see. Get your friends to help you. I don’t owe you, we were clear. Just let me live my life.”

Barry reached forward, hoping to convince her, and she puffed back a few feet, the door still open. Barry closed his mouth with an audible click. “If you change your mind, you know where we are. We could really use a hand, though.”

Peanut Butter miaowed a farewell as Barry left, still in his regular clothing, taking the steps three at a time.

* * *

  
“I hear Miss Hide and Seek gave you the cold shoulder,” a familiar voice drawled from the cortex doorway. Cisco flinched, dropping his tablet pen. Before Leonard Snart could move into the room, Barry was there, positioning himself between Snart and his two previous kidnap victims. Fuzzwhump hissed, pinning back her ears and showing her teeth. It wasn’t particularly threatening, but it was the intention that counted.

“We had a deal, Cold.” Barry’s voice shook with exhaustion, frustration, and fury. “What part of ‘if you go near my friends or family again the deal’s off and I lock you up for good’ don’t you understand?”

“Tou _chy.”_ Snart let out an exaggerated sigh. “You _clearly_ need help with something, asking people you’ve locked up for it shows you’re desperate. Your prison’s compromised, so skip the threat. My sister and I can make some…arrangements. Quid pro Quo. We help you, we get _something_ in return, everyone’s happy.”   
No one liked the smirk on his face, or the way his gaze lingered on Cisco and his desk, covered in tools. Barry’s chest heaved as he fought the urge to shove Snart through a window. Or a wall.  
He didn’t have to, nor did any of them have a chance to tell Snart exactly where he could stick his offer, when the thief let out a brief yell of pain.

Fuzzwhump, for the first time willingly separated from Cisco in days, had slipped over unnoticed and sunk needle sharp teeth into Snart’s ankle. The paralysis that had come over the room with his entrance ended in a wave of fur, tails, and claws as every one of the cats still at STAR Labs converged. Snart went down hard, batting ineffectively at kittens that his hands passed through, or dodged with ease.

Cisco knew it probably said something about him that he was enjoying it, but whether it said something good or bad, he didn’t know or care.

“Call them off,” Snart kicked, sending Moose flying. Moose yowled, shielding himself with a force field, and then returned to the fray. Feathers flew everywhere—Sue had torn open a seam in the parka.  
  
“You broke the treaty, cats do what they want.” Barry shrugged. “How did you think this was going to go down? We’d just be totally chill with you walking in?” Snart’s growl was matched by those of a dozen cats.

“Scrap, no!” Caitlin shrieked as Scrap grew to her full size and lifted a paw, claws like steak knives. Scrap looked back, and the expression of “pleeeease?” on her face couldn’t have been more clear.

With Scrap’s hesitation, the other cats also paused. Georgia lashed her tail _. (Enough. No kill. Just make scared. Would not taste good.)_

They backed off, forming a semicircle around him, hackles raised. Snart pushed himself to his feet, his ankles bloody and his face red. “Some hero you are.” He spat.

Fuzzwhump was still close. Eyeing him defiantly, she decided that just this once, a litterbox was not necessary. Scrap, still roughly four feet tall at the shoulder, growled menacingly.  
  
Snart was many things, and stupid was not one of them. He beat a hasty retreat, limping some. Barry watched him go, still furious. This was their sanctuary, and first order of business after making sure that moving the metas and hopefully stopping any second explosion was dealt with would have to be better security measures.

* * *

  
It almost worked. It almost worked, but at least no one was dead. Faulkner counted noses and tails and people, reassured that everyone had returned, with the exception of the people from the boxes. Sue was put off by that, she liked her person, even if he did shout a lot.

 _(Nart and his smell-bad friend and his littermate)_ Nyoom mewed as she licked her feathery and slightly singed tail. ( _Should have eaten.)_

 _(Cannot eat people. Is rude.)_ Georgia blinked, licking the Soft one’s hand. She was still shaking.

 _(Ice blasts and threatening Litter is also rude.)_ Lucy pointed out.

 _(Next time.)_ Frieda promised.  
  
_(Now?)_ Fuzzwhump asked, her mew high and bright with panic. Her eyes, like Sco’s, and Nyoomman’s, and everyone else’s, were fixed on the screen.  
  
The Wheelman was opening the gate.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd we’ll stop there. Two chapters left for this, folks! I’m done with work after this week so hoping, hoping, hoping, to get this finished by the first of the new year, plus a few more minifics and things. Please leave comments? It’s the time of year where the best gift you can give is encouragement, so not just for this fic, but for all you read, leave a little message for the writers, let them know you care.  
> hops off soap box.  
> Seee you soon.


	17. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I gloss over most of Barry making decisions and do a Thing. because screw canon, why not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so…it’s been a while since I saw the episode. Much is glossed over because reasons. If I don’t cover it, as always, assume it’s the same as in canon. And, throwing it out there, you can prompt through my tumblr for any scenes I skip. That said….time for “ Fast Enough” (there will be one more chapter after this.)

No one slept that night. Normally, that cats would have, exhausted after a day of running and arguing with a gorilla and fighting off metahumans who threatened their loved ones. Sue and Frieda pouted at the way their humans had lashed out—had hurt Papa Sco, and almost killed the Nyoomman.  But there was no time to worry about that, because the Wheelman had returned.  
  
Frieda and Georgia had looked at each other and blinked, a thought passing between them and then out. There had been enough of “next time.” Unless the Nyoomman showed otherwise, they would fight with teeth and claws, and bring him down.  
  
Scrap was, next to Fuzzwhump, the most disappointed that the Soft One had called her back when the Wheelman in his yellow suit had lain on the roof of the Wanna-Go-Car? Frozen by something that hummed uncomfortably, something from an arrow. But they were all glad to see Spike again, draped over a quiver on the Shout-Shoot man’s back, even if they did have to leave in a hurry, something about Santiago earning his keep and chewing through a dungeon door.

Fuzzwhump licked her paws and settled in Sco’s sweatshirt pocket. He was going nowhere without her, and if she had to kill the wheelman to keep her human safe, she’d do it. Even if she couldn’t grow big or bite through bones, she’d find a way.

Cisco settled a hand on her back, trying to breathe deeply and more or less failing. He’d never wanted to see Eobard Thawne again. But they’d won. They’d done it. All that was left was, get a confession somehow, and then….

He didn’t know what. Kill the guy? He’d killed at least a half dozen people, probably more, the pipeline couldn’t hold him forever, neither could any other jail. A lifetime ago, Cisco had offered help, getting him back to his time, but the thought of helping him do anything made Cisco’s skin crawl.  
Barry could decide. It was his family that had been hurt. It was his life the Reverse Flash had destroyed. Let Barry have the headache.  
Cisco borrowed one of the vans, and drove himself home, but he still didn’t sleep.

~~~~

Nyoom was bored. All her human wanted to do was talk to people. Maybe what he was saying was interesting, she couldn’t tell, but he was crying a little and his voice was doing the shaky thing, so Nyoom made sure to stick close and give him cuddles and only yowl at him to remind him she was bored a little.  
  
Ok, a lot. But leaving him to go running seemed like a Bad Plan. She couldn’t understand Human, but he talked to the Wheelman and he got angry and, then to the Big Man and he was sad, and every time she meowed (Go Run? Yes, Go Run. Clear head. Run) he just scratched her ears.  
  
At least something interesting happened. The Warm Two split, and Ginger had come with them, and after lots of talking, they all went outside. Some people stared at the group, but Nyoom was more interested in batting at the Nyoomman’s hoodie strings than in paying attention to the Old Warm one talking. Still, it was nice to run around on the grass, and roll in it.  
  
Scrap purred. Her human was happy, and safe. The Warm one was staying, and Ginger explained that they were back for good, which was nice. She had missed her littermate. The white dress was soft and smelled clean, and while Ris mad a noise that sounded like “No”, Scrap’s human didn’t seem to mind, scooping her up and hugging her close. For the first time in what felt like too long, all scrap could sense was Happy. Even Sco was grinning, not shaky or scared, and after a while, everyone just flopped onto the blankets they’d set out, and sat in the sunshine.  
Maybe People could learn how to be like cats after all.

  
~~~

  
Goldie lay across Eddie’s shoulders, purring. Iris was in much the same boat with Bear, and they sat together in the Star Labs cortex. It was quiet—most of the busy work was happening elsewhere, with Cisco and Ronnie building a Time machine downstairs, Barry working with Stein on something. Iris was glad for the company, and she thought Eddie was, too. It had been a relief when he’d found her at work, reminded that he had his own destiny to choose.  
“I was so worried,” she told him, reaching up to give Goldie a scratch. “I thought he might have hurt you.”  
“He couldn’t kill me,” Eddie shrugged, and Goldie gave a mew of discomfort at the movement. “I’m his…great great somethingth grandfather. I wonder if I can pre-disinherit him.”  
“If only,” Iris sighed. “Are you ok? I mean…”  
“I think…I think I will be. Once this is over.” Eddie sighed again. “I don’t know.”  
“That’s the thing about the future, I guess. None of us know. The, timeline thing, it’s always shifting, or whatever. Like, ripples. Little coincidences...big ones… “ she trailed off. “None of us, not even Dr. Evil McBodySnatch down there really know the full extent of that. Maybe vague outlines of what the future was, might be, but…nothing’s stone.”  
It was what Eddie needed to hear, honestly. Goldie patted at Iris’s cheek while Bear did the same to Eddie, and they both reached up.  
“If Barry does change the past,” Eddie said after a moment. “I hope this doesn’t change completely. I can’t imagine a life without you in it, in some way.”  
“It’s been a hell of a year and a half,” Iris agreed, “and I hope the same. Maybe nothing’s stone, but there are some things—I don’t think they can all change. The friendships…the—just everything. My dad said that Wells—not Wells, but him—told Barry once that history finds a way to fix things. I think he meant bad stuff still happening, but maybe it works for the good things, too.”

They sat in silence for a few more moments, simply enjoying each other’s company for what they both hoped wasn’t the last time. Still eased around their necks like living scarves, the cats purred, low, pulsing, soothing notes of calmness and reassurance.  
It didn’t hurt as much as Iris thought it would to stand, when Caitlin ushered them down. Now was the moment of truth. In a few minutes, everything would change—or nothing would change.  
  
~~~~~ ~~

They didn’t let Nyoom follow Barry, didn’t want to risk her getting hurt, or lost in the time stream. Cisco held her un one arm, while Fuzzwhump sat on his shoulder, clearly unhappy at the whole concept of letting Wells out of his cell ever.  
“It’s ok, Fuzz. He’s going away, never coming back.” Cisco whispered to her. Her fur flattened some, but so did her ears.

“Maybe I better keep her, when you go down to get the Time machine running,” Caitlin said with a wince. “In case she tries to kill him again.”

Cisco shrugged. “If you want her to try to kill you in an attempt to get back to me, you’re welcome to try, but I like you alive, Caitlin. And she’ll behave…probably. Besides, she’s not like your fluffmonster, she can’t actually kill anyone.”

“Eiling deserved—“ Caitlin started.

“Shush! I am _working!”_ Stein snapped, frazzeled. “Barry’s almost to…Mach…there! He’s done it. Injecting the particle now!”  
  
There was a rather loud bang, and an image flashed on the screen. The Wormhole. Cisco swallowed. “Ok. This is it, then. Let’s do this.”

They didn’t have much time to waste—they hadn’t before, either, and dimly, Cisco could almost hear those same alarms bells of that December night. With Fuzzwhump held close, he and Joe entered the pipeline, and Cisco opened the cell that housed the time machine, pulling it out to the center of the walkway with surprisingly little effort. Looking down, he saw that Ginger and Schrodinger helping.

Wells— _Thawne—_ smirked as he passed by. Joe still had a gun on him, but they all knew that it was useless. It would be useless if Thawne had wanted to fight them. Cisco was just glad he apparently didn’t. Fuzzwhump hissed, the sound echoing in the strangely silent corridor. Cisco would have expected a hole in time to make noise, but all there was was the sound of footfalls, and breathing, and rapid heartbeats.  
Time ticked so slowly, and Cisco felt the urge to hold his breath, backing up and away from the time machine as it turned on.

 _Holy shit it works. It’s gonna work._ Cisco thought, giddy.  
  
And then the world exploded in a spray of glass.

  
~~~

Cisco scrambled upright but could do no more, rooted in terror as Barry and Thawne fought, a terrible yellow and red ball of lightning, the sound of static and almost thunder louder even than his own heavy breathing. He clutched at Fuzzwhump, eyes darting from the destroyed time machine to Joe, dazed and unsteadily leaning against a wall, and back to the two fighting speedsters. Eobard hadn’t eaten as much, but—but he’d gotten used to that, to not needing as many calories to keep running. And Barry had exhausted himself from the run…  
They needed Firestorm, and the Arrow, and everyone, Cisco knew, because Barry was still no match for Thawne, not singlehanded, not in this state. They needed a miracle.  
  
Barry pushed off the side wall, diving into Thawne and punching him square, but Thawne was ready. He twisted with the blow and snapped back around, tossing Barry head first into the floor. Barry heaved for breath, drawing in oxygen like a lungful of fire, but managed to roll, ducking out of the way. At least the portal was closed, there was no chance of being pulled in unwillingly. He could see the red eyes that had haunted his childhood nightmares fixed on him, and took only milliseconds to judge, then swung. His fist connected, but so did the other speedster’s blow, and then his other blow, and another, crushing the air from his chest. Barry thrashed and caught Eobard’s leg, not quite enough to knock him down, but enough to get free.  
and then they were running again, across the walls, the sound of footsteps ringing out hollow and clear against the walls and the closed cell doors—if Barry could get one of them open and lead Eobard back around---

The distracted moment of thought was all Eobard needed, lengthening his stride and sending Barry crashing down. He stood over him in the wreckage of shattered glass, vibrating with fury. Barry didn’t have time to stand, not even to pull himself into a sitting position, when Eobard let out a hoarse shout.  
  
Cisco’s arms had gone numb, as frozen as his feet, but Fuzzwhump had not been stilled. She knew this Fear. She had not let it cow her like a kit again, for all she was not yet a yearling cat. Before Cisco could gather his thoughts enough to tighten his grip, the cat has pulled free and launched herself through the field of glass, springing off the edge of some larger debris.  
“Fuzzwhump!” Cisco yelped, stumbling forward.  
Eobard turned, reaching up to fling her from his back. She yowled in fury, half staggering to her paws, as Eobard again turned to Barry.

Barry wasn’t there, having taken the miracle and bolted in a blaze of gold lightning. Rocketing back along the pipeline’s length, he drew on the dregs of his strength, though his legs felt like concrete and his throat like shattered glass. He could hear someone running, footsteps, help had to be on the way, if he could just do this much, just be fast enough.  
  
The tackle might have worked if he’d had the strength to pin Eobard. As it was, the Reverse Flash shoved him hard, rolling, then pulling him up by the throat. Even with the mask still in place, and a cut bleeding into his eye, Barry knew Eobard was grinning. A gunshot rang out, but Eobard caught the projectile fired from Joe’s gun and tossed it aside. He raised one hand, sparking enough lightning to shade the area a sickly red.

“Just so we’re clear, I’m going to kill you. I’m going to kill everyone in this building, and then I’ll kill your father. The Arrow and his team. Everyone you’ve ever cared about. Because I always win, Flash.” The laugh was grating. “I always—“

He cut himself off as he saw something very small leaping at his face in the corner of his eye. He lashed out, his arm catching the kitten and sending her hard into the same wall she’d crashed into before. She hit the ground with a soft thud, limp, her pale eyes open and dull. Cisco screamed, racing forward too slow.  
Another gunshot rang out, accompanied by Joe’s pained yell—“ _Eddie!”  
_ Barry closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh look. something worse than killing Cisco  
> I’ve been plotting this last scene for about….5 months. I think it’s time for a capslocks party. I’ll be roasting marshmallows in Hell, if anyone cares to join me.  
> please comment. I crave it.  
> Hopefully the last chapter will be up before I move back to Idaho next week.


	18. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FINAL CHAPTER WOOOT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, Y’all! As the year begins and I start out on my move back to Idaho, this story draws to a close—fear not, this is not the end of metakitties. but it is the end for a while, as I need to see how season two shakes out before I start screwing with Canon. But I’m always up to chat about this on tumblr—user name hedgiwithapen. and of course, I’ll be posting other stories in the meantime.

There should have been a silence, Barry thought, to mimic the shock, the way his hummingbird-heart seemed to stop in those seconds. But there was no stillness, no quiet. Eobard Thawne dropped him and he crumpled for the handful of seconds it took to realize he was not dead. When he opened his eyes, the lightning that had been rippling over Eobard was gone, but the man was still blurring, as if being torn apart.

  
Too much else competed for attention, though, for Barry to stare and try to understand. He saw Cisco, free of the hold his fear had kept on his legs, running towards a small greyish lump at the base of one wall, but his eyes slid past at hyperspeed to find the source of the gunshot that had stopped Eobard. When he spotted it, he thought he might throw up.  
  
Iris and Joe were crouched by Eddie, a gun under his hand, bleeding out. Goldie and Bear pressed in, mewling and nudging at him, and if Barry’s legs hadn’t already given out on him, they would have now. Eddie was dying. His mother was dead. Fuzzwhump had only been a kitten. How had everything gone so wrong?  
  
Cisco called it knowing that there was nothing he could do for Eddie, called it letting Iris be with him instead, but honestly those facts hardly registered, as much as he cared. All he could see was Fuzz, her body limp and crooked. She was still warm when he scooped her into his arms, cradeling her delicately, and for one moment he thought he’d been wrong, that she was breathing after all. It was only his hands, trembling.  
  
“Cisco, _help me,_ ” Cisco didn’t recognize the voice, didn’t look up, didn’t need to. Eobard Thawne had killed his cat. He wasn’t about to lift a finger to help him with anything. He did notice, though, then the Time-Portal opened up in all its blazing blue glory, the color of his worst dreams. He clutched Fuzzwhump closer, heart hammering, as he heard Barry shout for everyone to Run.

“NO,” Iris screamed, Eddie half pulled into her lap, Goldie and Bear still mewing frantically, Goldie licking at Eddie’s hair even as the pull of the vortex ruffled it. “I’m not leaving him, Eddie, no, come back!”  
Eddie’s eyes were as sightless as Fuzzwhump’s as Joe pulled his daughter up, and Barry lifted his friend’s body.

Cisco was on their heels, still numb, as they tore past Caitlin and Ronnie in the antechamber, sweeping them and the Steins up in a wave of panic. The cats streamed around them, racing for an exit. The world seem to shake, Cisco could see the Singularity in the sky above them, getting larger, getting stronger. The wind tugged at his hair, and Clarissa’s dress, at the trees nearby, and all any of them could do was stop and stare in abject horror at one more thing going wrong. Cisco could have laughed at that thoughts, if he wasn’t already crying. This was so much more than wrong.

“How do I stop it?” Barry ask, frantic, Nyoom a silvery streak as she wove around his ankles in a frenzy to do something.  
“We don’t,” Martin Stein said flatly. “It cannot be—“ he cut off, frowning, and glanced around him until he spotted Bear. Barry had laid Eddie’s still form down in a sheltered spot a few feet away, Iris close by. Bear had wormed his way under Eddie’s hand, but was glaring with all the intensity of Cat disapproval at the professor. “It can be stopped, but it would take…I’m not even certain.”

“It’ll kill everyone if we don’t, there has to be something,” Barry said hotly. The swirling vortex caught his eye as it pulled in glimmers of light—the sun reflecting on broken glass and bits of metal. He swallowed, he could hear screaming, panic, terror. “What if I unravel it? Like the tornado, only upside down?”

“Possibly,” Stein said after another glare from Bear. “But—“

“Then I have to try. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His eyes swept the group, a family born of so much grief. In a flash of pent up lightning, Barry ran, a golden streak up the side of a building, and Nyoom after him, overtaking him. She sprang with the grace of a dancer, all the power of any cat that ever leaped or pounced evident in her as she pushed off from building to rubble in a blurr, and it was only the practice of running together for weeks that kept Barry from colliding with her, or she with him.

 

Below, the city watched the lightning show, holding their breath and clinging to anything they could, be it railings, posts, doorframes, or each other. Scrap trembled in Caitlin’s pocket, but when the woman, on instinct, stepped forward as if to help and felt gravity going a little wonky, the kitten clawed her way out and enlarged.  If anyone noticed the grizzly bear sized cat, no one cared enough to draw their eyes away from the hole in the sky. Even Iris, eyes swollen with tears and clutching at Eddie’s hand, even Clarissa, who had ticked herself into Martin’s hold, even the cats, who stared as one being, blinking together, their heads tilting in sync as only cats do, watching their littermate run.

“It’s stabilizing,” Ronnie shouted, the roar of the wind too loud to allow for anything more reverent.

“It’s not enough,” Clarissa frowned. “I listened to your lessons, Martin, read your paper. That won’t close it, will it?”

“No. But, if Ronald—“

“Ronnie,” Ronnie corrected, one hand locked around Caitlin’s, his other a loose fist.

“And I were to separate in the eye of it…” Martin finished, his face ashen. “It might be our best hope.”

“You can’t,” Caitlin whispered. “You could die, it’s too dangerous!”  
“We have to try,” Ronnie gave her a sad smile, and released her hand.

 

It was at that moment that Cisco was finally able to look away at the sparking light that was his best friend trying to save the world. For a moment he thought it had been a tremor, a vibration from the earth signaling more danger, more death, but the movement was only in his arms. It was only protective instinct that kept him from dropping Fuzzwhump when she licked his hand again, her entire body rumbling with a purr. He made a squeak of surprise, his jaw hanging open, disbelief pulsing through him. She blinked at him, twisting to butt her head at his chest, gently, then wriggled free.

  
His strangled cry drew the other’s gazes, even Barry over the comms demanded, out of breath, “What’s—happening—are---ok?” Caitlin turned as white as her wedding dress had been, Clarissa let out a gasp, and the rest of the kitties converged, their mews carrying to fill the entire courtyard. Fuzzwhump ignored all of it, even Cisco’s tear-choked “Fuzz? How?” and pushed through the others until she reached Iris.  
  
The silver tabby clambered up to Eddie’s unmoving chest, circled the spot over his heart, slick with blood that had stopped pumping, and settled, closing her eyes. Iris gave a little cry, looking to Cisco, free again from the paralysis that seemed to grip them al. He knelt beside the grieving woman, the dead man, and the cats, confusion warring with awe on his face.

“She was dead,” he whispered. “Her neck was broken, she was—“

“Cisco, what’s her Power? Her meta-ability?” Iris demanded, her beautiful face so much older and sadder than hours before, lined with concentration.  
“I thought it was memory! Or sensing intentions, or something, but---she—“ Cisco cut himself off, watching his kitten breath, peaceful, whole, alive.  
The impossible really was just another Tuesday.  
A ripple when through the kitten’s body, and Caitlin felt a memory sliding into place—Cisco had been dead under her hands, the bee’s sting had stopped his heart, Barry had leaned in with hands full of lightning, but Fuzzwhump had still been laid across Cisco’s heart. She understood a fraction of a heartbeat before Eddie’s eyes, clear and blue as an October sky, closed and opened again, a breath shuddering through him.

 

“Oh my God,” Iris clasped a hand to her mouth, then threw herself into an embrace, only just missing Fuzzwhump as the kitten hopped neatly back into the cradle of Cisco’s arms.

“Iris?” Eddie asked, a look of horror on his face. “Are you—did he kill you, I thought—I thought it’d worked, oh, God—“

“YOU IDIOT,” Iris cried, still hugging him. “I’m not dead, you’re not dead, don’t you ever do that again, so help me, I will--.” With Bear there, she could not finish the empty threat. A laugh bubbled from his chest, and from hers, and rippled through the rest of the tiny covy.  
  
“Barry, you need to get yourself and Nyoom down, now.” Martin suddenly barked, looking at Ronnie. “We have to merge, be ready to catch him.”

“What?” Ronnie asked, preoccupied by death itself working backwards to understand. Cisco did.  
“The Singularity, it’s because of a paradox. When Eddie killed himself, it erased Eobard McMuderface, but that meant no Star Labs in this time, to Flash, a million other things. So the universe decided to eat itself to fix the issue, or the timeline did, but now that Eddie’s not dead, Eobard _will_ be born and the timeline doesn’t need to eat itself which means that black hole is about to—“

The Singularity winked out, and Barry’s “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO,” echoed in the coms as Firestorm flew up to catch him. The cats, with a few exceptions, scattered.  
  
Joe was the first to hug his foster son when they’d safely landed, and Barry glanced over his shoulder at the others. When he saw Eddie, shirt still covered in blood and cat hair but standing, and Fuzzwhump in Cisco’s arms, he blinked.  
“I fell through that thing into another demesion, didn’t I? How—what happened?”  
“The cat.” Eddie said as if that explained everything, which it kind of did.  
“See, aren’t you glad I said we should keep them?” Cisco asked, stroking Fuzzwhump’s ears.  
No one answered verbally, just nodded and sighed in collective agreement.  
“Uhhh, so if Eddie’s not dead anymore, what does that mean about Eobard?” Barry asked, still not sure his eyes were to be trusted.  
“I’m gonna shoot him if he showed up again,” Joe said, unclipping his gun.  
“Something tells me that may not be needful,” Clarissa murmured, pointing. Lucy appeared in the doorway with most of the other cats, her tufted tail a banner.

(Took Care of Nasty Wheelman) Freida chirped, touching her nose to Joe’s shoe. (Maybe, is dead.)  
(Yes is dead) Schrodinger added, rubbing his head against Clarissa’s leg.  
(Absolute tragic) Lucy mewed (No breath.) She gave a kitten laugh.  
(Anymore) Felix put in. (was for small time.)  
(Very small) Georgia blinked.  
(I pushed rock on him!) Moose offered proudly.  
“Ok, I don’t know what they’re saying, but I do understand that.” Joe pointed. Schmendrick was dragging the remains of a very torn up yellow suit—the color not terribly apparent by the amount of blood and rock dust that stained it.  
Barry vanished and returned. “The Accelerator’s all caved in, some gaps but hardly more than cat sized. There’s no way to be certain but…”  
“Saves me a bullet,” Joe sighed, rubbed his eyes, and laughed. It was an infectious sound, more from relief and exhaustion and reckless joy than anything. They all joined in, the cats adding their voices with purrs. No one wanted to move, but after a moment they did retreat to the still standing sections of STAR, as people started to realize the disaster was over.  
  
“Well, I think this calls for a celebration,” Martin said, at long last. Everyone had more or less flopped on the floor of one of the rooms, using the cleanest of the cat beds for cushioning. The cats themselves lounged everywhere, everyone exhausted, content simply to be able to look over at each other and grin. Scrap let Caitlin and Ronnie lean against her, a solid weight of comfort, and her purr was as good as a massage chair. Nyoom, for once, had used up her spare energy, and she lay across Barry’s lap, snoring. Iris refused to let go of Eddie’s hand, not that he would have let go of hers. For once, the monitors and alerts were off—the city needed the Flash, yes, but there were police out in force, nearly all but Joe and Eddie, and his feet ached.  
“There’s still wedding cake in the fridge,” Iris supplied. “We never got to eat it.”  
“When I last second plan a wedding, I plan well,” Clarissa said, standing and shrugging Moose off her lap. “I’ll get it. And I suppose these little monsters have kitty treats somewhere?”  
At the word ‘treats’ not even Nyoom stayed stationary. Chaos reigned supreme for a few minutes, but then they settled again, eating the cake and tossing kitty treats and toy mice for their clowder. No one truly wanted to be alone, nor did anyone want to leave, so they stayed, leaning against each other, using extra sweatshirts for padding and pillows.  
Cisco moved to bury his face in Fuzzwhump’s belly fur, but stopped short when he realized she was still mostly soaked in Eddie’s blood. “You need a bath, Fuzz.”  
She growled a tiny, playful growl, (Not only one, Sco! Dust dust dust all over!) then rasped her tongue over his hand, purring loudly. He laughed and took one of the proffered napkins, cleaning her up as she continued to clean him, working her way from his hand to the place where tears had dried. When she’d finished, he cupped her close.  
“I love you, kitty,” he whispered. “You scared me.”  
(Even now, scares both) she mewed sleepily, tucking her paws under her. (Love you, Sco)  
They all fell asleep to the sound of purring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seee, it all worked out. :D I'm sure some of you saw through my clever trick. Anyway. I hope you've liked this! Please do leave a comment, let me know what you think--there are an awful lot of you, and I hope you've enjoyed this journey as much as I have! my deepest thanks to all, but particularly Linders, Mad, Sava, and Kenna who instigated the demand for kittens and wouldn't let me stop, and to Cr1m and Mikkal, who let me plot at them and encouraged my plot twists.


End file.
